


In Any Universe

by katnissdoesnotfollowback (lost_on_cloud_9)



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Drabble Collection, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2017-09-22
Packaged: 2018-10-24 17:19:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 49,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10746300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lost_on_cloud_9/pseuds/katnissdoesnotfollowback
Summary: A collection of NON-Panem AU drabbles initially posted to tumblr. Each chapter is a different drabble with the first chapter acting as a table of contents. Ratings vary from K to E, please see chapter 1 for more info.





	1. Table of Contents

  1. **_TABLE OF CONTENTS:_**



 

To make it a little easier to find what you’re looking for, I’m using the first chapter as a table of contents. If something is listed her in the Table of Contents but not yet posted, it will be uploaded within the next few days. Trying not to overwhelm your inboxes. ;-)

 

All pieces contained within this work are Everlark unless otherwise noted. All pieces are non-Panem AU and under 5,000 words long. Summaries, ratings, warnings, source of inspiration, and word counts are included in all descriptions.

 

What you will not find here: stories written for organized challenges, or special collections such as Prompts in Panem, Love in Panem, THG Write Me a Story, Everlark Birthday Drabbles, or Stories to Save Lives. Those are posted as stand alone pieces.

 

I have no plans to expand any of these drabbles into longer stories.

 

Thanks for reading! <KDNFB

 

  1. **_Yards of Silk & Tulle_**



Modern AU, mostly fluffy but a little smutty, based on the prompt, “I’m lost.” 712 Words. Written July 2014. **WARNINGS:** RATED T+ _,_ mild sexual content

 

  1. **_A Hundred Rubber Ducks_**



Modern AU Fluff, based on the prompt, “Are You Flirting with Me?”  2,267 Words. Written July 2014 **WARNINGS:** RATED T for tons of tropes and cheese

 

  1. **_Dandelion Bouquet_**



Unspecified AU, Fluff-ish, written for the Everlark Drabble Challenge with the prompt: arranged marriage. 718 Words. Written September 2014. **WARNINGS:** RATED T for allusions to smut but no actual smut.

 

  1. **_Midnight Whispers_**



Modern AU written for the Everlark Drabble Challenge with the prompt: Katniss or Peeta wakes up in the hospital with no recollection of their life before that moment. 742 Words. Written September 2014. **WARNINGS:** RATED T, no other warnings

 

  1. **_An Obsession with Curls_**



Modern AU fluff celebrating Katniss' fixation with Peeta's hair. 602 Words. Written September 2014. **WARNINGS:** RATED T for pure fluff and one kiss

 

  1. **_Three A.M. Fire Alarms_**



Exactly how it sounds. Modern AU. Some fluff written for Trick-or-Treats. _Leave a Trick-or-Treat!_ In my inbox and get a drabble. Include a prompt if so desired, otherwise, anything goes! 1,436 Words. Written September 2014. **WARNINGS:** RATED T, no other warnings

 

  1. **_Pre-Game Festivities_**



Modern college AU, written for Trick-or-Treats 2014 with the request: Older Katniss. 1,668 Words. Written October 2014. **WARNINGS:** RATED T, mild sexual content. Very mild.

 

  1. **_Shopping Cart Mania_**



Modern AU written for Trick-or-Treats 2014 with the request: Katniss and Johanna go grocery shopping. 588 Words. Written October 2014. **WARNINGS:** RATED T

 

  1. **_A Dragon Rider and a Jedi_**



Modern AU fluff, written for Trick-or-Treats 2014 with the request: Katniss and Peeta are both single parents taking the kids around their neighborhood Trick-or-Treating and keep running into each other. 1,301 Words. Written October 2014. **WARNINGS:** RATED T, fluff and more fluff

 

  1. **_Untitled Halloween Drabble_**



Modern AU, written for Trick-or-Treats 2014 with the request: Katniss and Peeta arguing over whether to hand out store bought or homemade treats. 563 Words. Written October 2014. **WARNINGS:** RATED T, no other warnings

 

  1. **_Echoes in the Tunnel_**



Modern AU, anonymous request for homeless Katniss singing in the subway. 1,740 Words. Written November 2014. **WARNINGS:** RATED K, no other warnings

 

  1. **_Knock Before You Bake_**



Modern College AU. In which Peeta decides to bake cookies at 3 am and makes a lot of noise. 694 Words. Written November 2014. **WARNINGS:** RATED K, no other warnings because it’s nothing but fluff.

 

  1. **_Untitled Gadge Drabble_**



Modern AU. Written in response to a prompt/request "knocking on the wrong door." 733 Words. Written January 2015. **WARNINGS:** RATED T, for shirtless boys and shameless ogling.

 

  1. **_Ghosts_**



Modern AU, Written in response to a prompt/request to write Everlark: one night stand and getting pregnant AU. 1,015 Words. Written January 2015. **WARNINGS: RATED T,** allusions to abortion, vague sensual content

 

  1. **_Untitled drabble #28_**



Modern AU, Written in response to a prompt/request to write Everlark: knocking on the wrong door AU. 845 Words. Written January 2015. **WARNINGS: RATED T** , no other warnings.

 

  1. **_Untitled coffee shop AU_**



Modern coffee shop AU, Written in response to a prompt/request. 4,125 Words. Written March 2015. **WARNINGS: RATED T+** , mild sexual content.

 

  1. **_Always Bet on Peeta_**



Modern AU, Written in response to a prompt/request for “we kind of got past the point of ‘taking this game of gay chicken too seriously’ when you took your pants off but I really do not mind at all.” 2,441 Words. Written April 2015. **WARNINGS: RATED T** , for shirtless boys and some kissing

 

  1. **_An Unplanned First Date_**



Modern AU, Inspired by the lovely lady whose pogue date wouldn’t kiss her and the stranger who rose to the occasion. 2,834 Words. Written May 2015. **WARNINGS: RATED T,** for totally cheesy...and some kissing.

 

  1. **_The Height of Romance_**



Modern AU, Inspired by a tumblr post/text conversation and the ever present question… Imagine your OTP… Katniss is not very smooth at wooing over text and Peeta doesn’t mind so much. _1,720 Words. Written May 2016._ **WARNINGS:** RATED T for mild language and implied sexual content

 

  1. **_Don’t Tempt Me_**



Modern AU, Co-workers Everlark inspired by a dialogue and situation pairing, Co-workers/Don’t tempt me. _3,467 Words. Written May 2016._ **WARNINGS:** RATED T, no other warnings.

 

  1. **_The Most Beautiful Woman in the World_**



Modern AU, Peeta tells the story of how he and Katniss met, heavily influenced by a tumblr post. _1344 Words. Written June 2016._ **WARNINGS:** Rated T for second hand embarrassment. It’s ridiculous. Just enjoy it. No triggers that I’m aware of.

 

  1. **_Jealous Buttercup_**



Modern AU, Inspired by the prompt “I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I’m not looking.” _771 Words. Written June 2016._ **WARNINGS:** RATED M for brief smut, oh and I was a little tipsy and trying to clear a few prompts out of my inbox when I wrote this, so keep that in mind please.

 

  1. **_The Stupidest Plan Ever_**



Modern AU, Inspired by the prompt “This is without a doubt, the stupidest plan you’ve ever had. Of course I’m in.” _508 Words. Written June 2016._ **WARNINGS:** RATED T+ for sexual situations, oh and I was a little tipsy and trying to clear a few prompts out of my inbox when I wrote this, so keep that in mind please.

 

  1. **_4 Minute Lull_**



1950’s AU, Written for peetaisbae via everlarkbirthdaydrabbles. An unexpected pregnancy during college changes the plans Katniss and Peeta had for their lives. _3,959 Words. Written July 2016._ **WARNINGS:** RATED T, no additional warnings.

 

  1. **_Grapholasagna_**



Random AU, Inspired by someone who saw the first chapter for _Come On Baby,Light My Fire_ , and thought the word was Grapholasagna, not Grapholognia. They thought perhaps the word could have meant: the urge to stare at Italian food. _304 Words. Written August 2016._ **WARNINGS:** RATED K, no warnings. This is literally just some silly fun.

 

  1. **_Moving You, Moving Me_**



Modern AU inspired by a piece of art by the fabulous everlart.tumblr.com and the prompt, “If you keep looking at me like that, we aren’t going to make it to a bed.” Basically gratuitous porn. _3,356 Words. Written September 2016._ **WARNINGS:** RATED E for smut. SMUT I SAY!!!

 

  1. **_What I’m Really Craving_**



Modern AU written for everlarkbirthday drabbles. In which a pregnant Katniss is craving something that Peeta can’t get her…or _can_ he? _2,106 Words. Written September 2016._ **WARNINGS:** RATED T, no other warnings.

 

  1. **_Between the Covers_**



Modern AU written for everlarkbirthdaydrabbles. Reading a popular book series together with her boyfriend causes Katniss all kinds of frustrations. At least they agree on the romance plot, right?…Right?! _5,077 Words. Written November 2016._ **WARNINGS:** RATED T/M: for mild sexual content, a handful of curse words, and shameless references to multiple fandoms.

 

  1. **_Babysitters & Flower Crowns_**



Modern-ish AU inspired by a tumblr prompt. Katniss works hard as a babysitter for most of the kids in her neighborhood and isn’t too keen on the idea of sharing the work with anyone else. But Peeta Mellark is just a little too cute with a flower crown on his head…  _ 792 Words. Writtten January 2016.  _ **WARNINGS:** RATED T, no other warnings.


	2. Yards of Silk and Tulle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Modern AU, mostly fluffy but a little smutty, based on the prompt, “I’m lost.” 712 Words. Written July 2014
> 
> WARNINGS: RATED T, mild sexual content

This is the moment she’s been dreading. Katniss sits in the chair and grasps the sides.

 

Peeta had offered to skip this particular tradition, knowing how uncomfortable it would make her. It had turned into quite the argument with his mother. One that continued once they’d finally left the wedding planning session at her house.

 

_ “It’s a stupid and degrading tradition, Peeta,” she’d whined to him a month ago. _

 

_ “I know. I don’t like it either. So we’ll skip it.” _

 

_ “Oh come on, you’re gonna tell me you don’t like the idea of pawing at me under a skirt in front of all your friends?” _

 

_ “Well, when you put it that way…” she’d smacked his arm but the lascivious grin hadn’t left his face. “And you’re gonna tell me you don’t get turned on by the idea of getting off in public?” _

 

_ She couldn’t deny that. After all, she’d been the one to initiate that time in the library stacks. His fingers could do such wicked things… _

 

_ “It’s still degrading.” She’d pouted for a moment before curiosity got the better of her. “What bothers you about it?” _

 

_ He’d shrugged and answered, “Call me jealous but I don’t like the idea of throwing a lacy under thing that’s been on your thigh into a crowd of horny assholes.” _

 

_ She’d laughed, “Then maybe you should keep it.” _

 

In the end, his mother won out and the garter toss had been included in the reception agenda. Mrs. Mellark was a stickler for tradition and convention, so by the time they got around to talking bouquet and garter tosses, Katniss and Peeta had already accepted that this wedding wasn’t really theirs anymore.

 

Instead, they’d had their own little ceremony, just the two of them, last week. They’d written their own vows, toasted bread over a fire and drank champagne to seal those vows. And then…her face goes red and her breath hitches just thinking about it now.

 

Peeta kneels in front of her, gently grasping yards of silk and tulle. With a quick apologetic look up at her, he dives under her skirts to the loud cat calls and whistles of his still single friends. Even Finnick, married and getting shushed by Annie, joins the revelry.

 

At first she jumps at the feel of him touching her legs. He runs a hand up one leg, the one without the garter, a soft caress. Then she feels his lips on her ankle, slowly working their way up to her knee and she melts into his touch. She grips the chair tighter, grateful that at least Mrs. Mellark allowed her this and didn’t make her sit on the best man’s back. Heat suffuses her body and she nearly moans when the wandering hand finds her center, starts to rub slow circles over the sensitive area.

 

She’s going to kill him.

 

His tongue darts out to lick the crease behind her knee and she gasps. Something must be wrong with her hearing, the guests all sound like they’re underwater.

 

Later. She’ll kill him later. After she’s at least gotten some satisfaction. Because, damn him, he was right about this turning her on. His lips finally reach the garter, his teeth scraping her skin ever so slightly as they close around the delicate strap of lace. As he pulls it down her leg, his hand follows, and she can’t stop the feeling of disappointment at the loss of his touch.

 

When Peeta finally reemerges, garter in his mouth, the wedding goers erupt in thunderous noise, hopefully oblivious to the way Katniss is panting and now clutching her thighs together. She almost misses the chorus of boo’s when Peeta tucks the garter in his jacket pocket, tossing a wrapped package into the crowd of waiting single men instead. He turns to help her out of the chair and grins a little sheepishly at her.

 

“I got lost in all that fabric,” he whispers to her.

 

“Didn’t feel like it, Mellark. We aren’t needed for a while now, right?”

 

“Not until we leave. About an hour, maybe. I think Finnick and the guys are about to go trash my car.”

 

“Good,” she threads her arm through his and drags him towards the door. “Because you’re going to finish what you started.”


	3. A Hundred Rubber Ducks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Modern AU Fluff, based on the prompt, “Are You Flirting with Me?” 2,267 Words. Written July 2014
> 
> WARNINGS: RATED T for tons of tropes and cheese

It’s all her fault.

 

He wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for her. Katniss Everdeen. Knowing it’s a bad idea, Peeta sneaks a quick glance at the girl two rows over. She catches him looking and winks. He has to stifle his groan. He’s such a sucker for her. When did it get this bad?

 

Back in kindergarten it was just a crush on a girl with a beautiful singing voice. By the end of first grade, they were best friends, inseparable. In third grade, she’d given him a Valentine. Okay, she’d given one to every kid in their class, but she’d drawn little hearts with arrows through them on his. When her dad died during fifth grade, she’d snuck into his bedroom and cried while he held her. Then in seventh grade, they’d gotten pressured into a game of spin-the-bottle at Delly’s birthday party. Somehow, the bottle landed on him when it was her turn. He still remembers the way her braid slid over her shoulder as she crawled across the circle. The brief twitch of her lips into a half smile before she pressed them to his.

 

“I’m glad I kissed  _ you, _ ” she’d said as they rode their bikes home after the party.

 

“Why’s that?” he asked, hoping she’d give the same answer he’d give to that question.

 

“Because that was my first kiss and you’re my number one guy,” Katniss had replied, as though he ought to know it by now. He’d smiled, his cheeks feeling like they would crack with the force of it. Her words weren’t exactly what he wanted to hear. But they were close enough for now. It’d been his first kiss, too.

 

By high school she was a champion archer and one of the top vocalists in choir. She started wearing shorter shorts and all the boys began to notice her then. Peeta, her childhood friend, was often pushed aside in favor of taller, far more handsome guys. Sure they were still friends, he supposed. And as long as Katniss was happy, he told himself he could be too. So he tried to ignore the pain in his chest when she’d pass by his locker with Gale Hawthorne’s hand riding on her waist. Sometimes lower than her waist.

 

Four years of watching her date. Four years of watching her live life the way only Katniss could. And then, this morning…she’d called him.

 

“Hey, Peeta. Can I get a ride to school?”

 

“Sure, I’ll pick you up in an hour?” He could barely contain the excitement in his voice. Time alone with Katniss. Something they hadn’t had in a very long time.

 

“No, it needs to be now.”

 

“Okay…give me a minute and I’ll be on my way.”

 

“Thanks Peeta. You’re the best.” His heart flipped at her words, even though by now he ought to know that they’re just words.

 

When he got to her house, she ran around to his trunk, a massive sack slung over her shoulder. He got out and opened the trunk for her.

 

“What’s this?”

 

“Oh, just something for school,” she’d waved away his questions and climbed into his car, oblivious to the effect she had on him in those olive green shorts and his old wrestling hoodie. He’d loaned it to her months ago, when he’d caught her shivering in the stands at a late October football game. She’d never returned it and he’d never asked for it back.

 

Smiling a little to himself, Peeta climbed in the car and didn’t protest when Katniss changed the radio station. Instead, he reveled in the sound of her voice as she sang along. When they got to the school, the parking lot was still empty.

 

“You gonna tell me why we’re here so early?”

 

“Just help me with my stuff,” she’d smacked him playfully on the arm and smiled at him. The same smile she’d given him the first time she’d told him he was her number one guy. So he’d relented and helped her drag the sack across the school yard. When they reached the pond, she’d opened the sack to reveal a couple hundred rubber ducks.

 

“Okay, seriously, Katniss. What are you doing?”

 

“This,” she indicated the bag, “is my senior prank.”

 

“You’re going to fill the pond with rubber ducks?”

 

“No.  _ We’re _ going to fill the pond with rubber ducks.”

 

He’d balked at this. He couldn’t afford to get in trouble. There were scholarships to be lost, his mother’s wrath to face if he got detention or worse…

 

“Come on, Peeta,” she’d whined. “I need your help. You’re my number one, after all.”

 

And he’d caved. He’d caved so fast with those molten gray eyes trained on him, he swears he saw stars in that moment. It was a glorious five minutes of laughing and chatting as they released the rubber ducks into the wilds of the school pond.

 

But just as they finished, Principal Coin had arrived in the lot. Hands clasped, laughing, Katniss and Peeta made a run for it. At first, he thought they’d made it. They hid in the library until the bell rang then went to first period. Before she’d left, Katniss had stood on tip-toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. 

 

“I owe you one,” she’d whispered. Then she was gone with a swish of her braid, leaving behind a whiff of her herbal shampoo and Peeta’s heart in turmoil.

 

He’d been in such a daze that when the Principal’s voice crackled over the classroom intercom, he hadn’t registered what was happening. It was Mr. Abernathy’s pointed look, and question of “Mellark? You catch that?” that finally snapped him back to reality. He’d nodded then slumped in his seat, trying to ignore the whispers and snickers of his classmates.

 

Detention.

 

He’d never actually had it before, although he knew Katniss had for a variety of offenses. Public displays of affection, mouthing off to Ms. Trinket, a fight in the locker rooms with Clove that she refused to talk to him about. And one spectacular incident of toilet papering the vice principal’s car and painting eyes on the windshield to make it look like a mummy one Halloween. VP Boggs had been laughing, but Principle Coin had insisted on detention for the culprits.

Now he was stuck in a classroom, wondering what his additional punishment would be when he got home.  Katniss sat humming two rows over while he tried to get some homework done. Dr. Aurelius, the guidance counselor and today’s detention moderator, had long since slipped into a nap.

 

Why was he such a sucker for her? He cut his eyes towards her again. She was biting her nails. He couldn’t help but notice that she was still wearing his hoodie. Then she caught him looking again. This time, her pink tongue darted out and wet her lips. The movement was too deliberate, her gaze too piercing for it to be just an accident. He swears she’s making bedroom eyes at him.

 

Lord almighty.

 

Nervously glancing at Dr. Aurelius to make sure he’s still asleep, Peeta slides out of his desk and one row closer. Katniss leans towards him, her eyes sparking with mischief or something else he doesn’t dare to hope is real.

 

“Are you…are you flirting with me?” he whispers the question.

 

“What if I am, Mellark?”

 

Dr. Aurelius grunts. Peeta and Katniss jerk back upright. He doesn’t get the courage to speak to her again. At four o’clock, an alarm goes off on Dr. Aurelius’s phone. With a lot of grumbling, he dismisses them, reminding them not to do whatever it was they did to piss off Coin ever again.

Outside, Katniss pauses to laugh at the fallout of their prank. Principal Coin marches around the pond, barking orders at a janitor, her arms wind-milling as her heels keep sinking into the grass. The poor janitor has donned fishing waders and ventured into the pond with a net to retrieve the rubber ducks. Peeta just shakes his head and starts walking towards his car. It’s all just too much anymore.

 

“Peeta! Wait up!” Katniss calls out, running to catch up to him. “You aren’t mad at me, are you?”

 

“No Katniss. Just a little perturbed. You drag me into your prank without bothering to ask if I wanted to be involved. Now I’ve got a detention to explain to my mother.”

 

Katniss crosses her arms and scowls at him. “You could have said ‘No.’”

 

“See that’s the thing. I can’t. I can’t just say ‘No’ to you. I’ve  _ never  _ been able to. And I think you know that. I think you know  _ exactly _ how to get me to do what you want. And what’s worst of all is I think you  _ know _ that you’re doing it.”

 

She doesn’t deny his words, her gaze dropping to the ground in a very un-Katniss like manner. He’s afraid for a moment that he’s hurt her, but then the image of her licking her lips at him resurfaces. He sighs and turns to unlock the car.

 

“That’s not entirely true,” she says it so quietly, he almost misses it. “I can’t always get you to do what I want you to do. There are some things I want you to do, but I can’t…I don’t want to  _ make  _ you do them.”

 

Peeta looks back at her, waiting for further explanation. She’s shoved her hands into the pocket of his hoodie. Under his gaze, she starts to fidget a little.

 

“Can we just maybe talk about this somewhere else?” she finally asks, and he swears she sounds like she’s about to cry. He hasn’t seen her cry since they were eleven. So Peeta nods and opens the door for her. He’s barely out of the parking lot before she starts to talk.

 

“Do you remember that fight I had with Clove?”

 

“Sophomore year, yeah, I remember. You refused to tell me what it was about. What does that have to do with today?”

 

“The fight was about you.”

 

“What?!” Peeta nearly drives the car off the road. Once he’s got it back under control, he grips the steering wheel and waits.

 

“She and Glimmer were bragging in P.E. about all of the boys they’d been with. And Clove bragged she was going to bang the captain of every sports team if she could. Then she announced that you were next on her list, said something cheesy about wanting you to pin her, and anyways. She spotted me listening in and asked if you were worth the effort.” He risks a quick look over at her, sees that she’s still got her hands shoved in the hoodie pocket and she’s staring at her sneakers. He was co-captain of the wrestling team, he remembers. There was a huge broo-ha over it too because he’d been the first sophomore ever named co-captain. “I just got so mad at the idea of you being with her. Of her using you like that. At the suggestion that  _ I  _ could have used you that way…I don’t know, everything went red.”

 

They ride in silence for a long time.

 

“I don’t understand. Why would you care? You were still with Gale then.”

 

“I know. But I  _ know _ you, Peeta. You’re a hopeless romantic. And you’d never sleep with someone you weren’t completely in love with. So yes, there are things I wanted you to do but that I couldn’t bring myself to make you do so I dated other guys.”

 

That’s it.

 

Peeta pulls the car off the road and turns in his seat to face Katniss. He ignores her look of confusion and asks outright, “Are you saying that you wanted to have sex with me? Or that you wanted to date me?”

 

Her face goes from confused to terrified in an instant, “No! That’s not…not exactly what I’m saying, I mean, yes but, I…” So Peeta does what he always does when Katniss is scared. He reaches out to her.

 

Cupping her face gently in his hands he brushes his thumbs across her cheeks and he finally allows himself to look at her the way he’s wanted to since seventh grade. Since she declared him her number one guy. A tear slides out of one of her eyes and he quickly wipes it away. Her breath catches and she whispers his name.

 

“Peeta…” it sounds like a plea and he answers, lowering his mouth to hers. She makes a muffled sound in her throat, making him think maybe he read her wrong. Then he feels her arms shift, her fingers grasp his hair and tug, pulling him closer and making him moan against her lips. She opens her mouth to him in response and  _ sweet heaven _ . He darts his tongue between her lips, still a little scared he might not be welcome. But she rubs hers against his and tugs harder on his hair. She tastes of apples and wild carefree summer nights and  _ Katniss. _

 

He’s dreaming. He must be dreaming. He never thought he’d get to feel this kind of heat, not with her.

 

A car drives by, yanking them from their little world. They sit there, her hands still tangled in his hair, staring at one another. Her lips are plump and rosy, her skin flushed, and she’s breathing heavily. He knows he must look the same. After a moment trying to get their bearings, she leans her forehead against his and holds his gaze while she finally answers.

 

“Yeah, I was flirting with you. Because I want both of those things. But only if you do too.”


	4. Dandelion Bouquet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unspecified AU, Fluff-ish, written for the Everlark Drabble Challenge with the prompt: arranged marriage. 718 Words. Written September 2014. 
> 
> WARNINGS: RATED T for allusions to smut but no actual smut.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here on this most Joyous Occasion,” the preacher’s voice falters on the word “joyous,” but he continues on determinedly. His hesitation is understandable given that every face in the church reads somewhere between terrified, solemn, or downright furious.

Katniss stares straight ahead at the plain wooden cross behind the altar, clutching her small bouquet and desperately trying not to think of the events that led her to this mess. Thinking of nothing else. Behind her, her mother lets out a small choked sob and she remembers the way Amanda Everdeen had braided her hair and helped her dress in a plain white dress this morning, dispensing motherly advice about matrimony that came out sounding more like a death sentence than anything else to Katniss.

 

Her father  _ har-umphs _ and hushes his wife. It’s a lot gentler than his railing at his oldest daughter this morning. He’d very loudly and harshly informed Katniss that he didn’t care if she was only twenty and not wanting to marry yet. They were going to the church today and that was final.

 

Slowly, so no one will notice, she dips and turns her head just the tiniest amount so she can examine her groom. He’s standing ramrod straight, hands fisted at his side. Sweat is starting to bead at his temples, matting his blond curls to his head. He looks terrified.

 

Of course, she probably would too if it were her who had the double barrel of a loaded shotgun pressed between her shoulder blades.

 

Watching him a moment, she’s flooded with much more pleasant memories. The uncertainty in his eyes when he’d presented her with her bouquet of fresh picked yellow dandelions right before they’d entered the church.

 

“It’s not much, I know. It’s the best I could do on such short notice,” he’d shyly said.

 

She hadn’t been able to respond since that was the moment Gale chose to assert authority as her cousin and lead Peeta into the church at gunpoint. But she had noticed that the bouquet was tied with an orange ribbon.  _ Her _ orange ribbon. The one she’d been wearing the day they’d gotten stuck in a rainstorm on Lookout Mountain and he’d kissed her for the first time.

 

Her insides swoop again at the memory. When she’d gotten home after, her ribbon had been missing. She’d given it up for lost. Briefly, she wonders if he has her green ribbon with the white polka dots on it as well. That one went missing last night…

 

Which leads her to the memory of why they’re standing here in the first place with 12 gauges of death pressed to Peeta’s spine. Last night, Gale had found them in the loft of his father’s barn, bare from the waist down except her boots, with Peeta thrusting enthusiastically between Katniss’s wide spread legs, her body flushed and his name falling from her lips.

 

It wasn’t the first time they’d met like that. Just the first they’d been caught. Gale had been livid, nearly shot Peeta, a measly farm hand working for Mr. Hawthorne, on site for deflowering his cousin. Funny, she didn’t feel deflowered at all but rather like she’d just begun to bloom. Her insistence that she’d  _ wanted _ to be with Peeta only made things worse. Gale had gone into a rant about devil’s tongues and influencing innocent girls.

 

Innocent, ha! He wouldn’t think that if he knew half the things she’d done with Peeta, most of them initiated by her.

 

So here they were, about to be married.

 

The thing is, if someone had asked her yesterday to choose her husband that instant…she would have chosen Peeta. He was kind, hard-working, loyal, funny, handsome, and well…passionate. Her face flushes as she reaches out her right hand, taking his left fist into her grasp.

 

Small noises of protest sound in the congregation at her actions and the preacher falters again, but she doesn’t care.

 

After the noises die down, Peeta’s hand relaxes in hers. He laces their fingers together and gives her a reassuring squeeze. The turn of his head is almost imperceptible, but he does turn. And what she sees shining in his blue eyes as he looks at her convinces her.

 

This would have happened anyways.


	5. Midnight Whispers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Modern AU written for the Everlark Drabble Challenge with the prompt: Katniss or Peeta wakes up in the hospital with no recollection of their life before that moment. 742 Words. Written September 2014. 
> 
> WARNINGS: RATED T, no other warnings

“Who the hell are you?!” A voice shouts from room 12. There’s a loud crashing noise immediately after. Ah, the coma patient awakens.

 

“I better go help them out,” I jerk my thumb in the direction of the shouting. Not five minutes after I’ve clocked in and already there’s some excitement. “You might wanna page the Doc by the sound of things.” Lavinia nods and picks up the phone.

 

“Nurse! Is there a nurse here?” A man pokes his head out of room 12 to yell frantically down the hall. All I catch is a flash of dark hair before he goes back in the room. When I get there, the man is trying to restrain the patient. She’s having none of it, jerking away from his touch and reaching to rip out her IV.

 

“Don’t touch me! I don’t know who you are!”

 

“Catnip, please. It’s Gale.”

 

“Catnip” snorts and swats his hands away. “What a ridiculous name.”

 

“Excuse me, sir,” I interrupt. “Perhaps you should wait outside until the doctor gets a chance to speak with Ms. Everdeen.”

 

“I—um, yeah. I’ll just be down the hall, Catnip.”

 

“Stop calling me that,” she snarls. The man gives her a sad look before he leaves.

 

“I’m Peeta, a nurse here,” I say, holding a hand out to her.

 

After eyeing it suspiciously for a second, she takes my hand and shakes it. Her grasp is firm and her eyes blaze at me. “Apparently I’m ‘Catnip.’”

 

I chuckle. “He identified you as ‘Katniss Everdeen.’ Does that sound at all familiar to you?” She shakes her head. “Could you tell me what you do remember?” I ask gently.

 

She places her fingers against her temples and hunches over into the bed. “Just waking up and him trying to kiss me. Everything else is so fuzzy.”

 

I nod and place a hand on her arm. “We’ve paged your doctor, he should be here soon. For now, I’m going to fix this IV, alright?”

 

She looks up at me, the anger melting out of her gaze. “What happened to me?”

 

I focus on the IV but answer her question. “Car accident. You suffered some head trauma and went into a coma.”

 

“Oh…” she’s quiet for a moment and I move to check her vital signs. “How long was I out?”

 

“Couple of days.” I look up and give her a smile. She has beautiful gray eyes. Storm cloud gray with lighter flecks close the iris.

 

“Was tall, dark, and brooding in the wreck with me?” She tips her head to indicate the door he’d left through.

 

“No, you were alone,” I laugh a little at her moniker for her boyfriend.

 

“Oh…” she trails off and looks at her lap.

 

“Why, do you remember something?”

 

She squeezes her eyes shut and says, “I thought there was someone with me. It was at night?”

I make an affirmative noise.

 

“There was someone talking to me, about a soccer game, I think.”

 

I startle a little. There’s no way she remembers that and not her handsome boyfriend. It must be a coincidence. She must be thinking of something else.

 

Dr. Abernathy arrives before I can question her, so I step back and let him do his job. Still, I can’t help but watch her. Lavinia announces the end of visiting hours over the intercom. I move to the window to shut the curtain, take a moment to glance out into the night. When I turn back, Dr. Abernathy is still questioning Ms. Everdeen. I wonder if it’s possible she does remember. But why that? I make it a habit to chat with all our patients, if I’ve got the time. And the fact that she was in a coma didn’t stop me from talking to her. Dr. Abernathy takes some notes on her chart and informs her he’ll be bringing in a specialist.

 

When they’re done, he turns to me. “Nurse Mellark, I need you to follow me to room 6. We’ve got some complications to deal with there.”

 

“Yes sir,” I move to follow him, but her hand darts out and grabs mine.

 

“Will you come back? When you’re done?”

 

“It might not be right away, but my shift just started. I’ll be back to check on you at least once or twice tonight.”

 

“Okay,” she lets go and relaxes back into her pillow.

 

I give her one last smile before following the doctor down the hall.


	6. An Obsession with Curls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Modern AU fluff celebrating Katniss' fixation with Peeta's hair. 602 Words. Written September 2014. 
> 
> WARNINGS: RATED T for pure fluff and one kiss

Katniss can measure her relationship with Peeta by his curls. The first time she saw him, he’d been walking through the halls of the school, laughing at something Delly Cartwright said to him and running a hand through his hair. Her middle had clenched and she’d lost her breath for just a moment. But she didn’t understand why.

 

Turns out, he was the new kid in town. Sort of. He’d known Delly when they were little but his family had moved away after kindergarten. She vaguely remembers a blond boy always by Delly’s side. Now he’s moved back, and joined the baseball team. Walking by the practice field one afternoon, she watches him out of the corner of her eye as he removes his cap. His hair is sweaty and sticking to his head. Then he pours some water from the fountain over himself. Her lips part and she starts to walk faster, hoping he didn’t see her.

 

During math class, she stares at the way his hair falls across his forehead when he’s bent over his desk, brow furrowed and eyes intense with concentration. Katniss squeezes her legs together and starts to feel warm all over despite the overworked air conditioner in the classroom.

 

At homecoming, she hates those ridiculous curls. They’re a mess and probably greasy, she decides, looking away from the sight of Delly with her fingers combing through Peeta’s hair, hips and lips pressed together.

 

In spring, he sits next to her in biology. When the teacher announces partners for their end of term project, she tries to suppress a groan and throws a glare in Peeta’s direction. He just gives her a sheepish grin and rubs the back of his head. And there’s that stupid clenching of her everything again.

 

They spend mornings and afternoons working on their project and she doesn’t just learn all about the intricacies of genetics with him. She also learns how his curls look in every form of light imaginable. Only it isn’t just his curls anymore. He catches her staring at his unbelievably long lashes and wondering how the hair on his arm could possibly look exactly like spun gold.

With their project finished and graduation behind them, Katniss finds she was wrong. She didn’t know what his curls looked like in every light. Because at the summer fair, she learns the way bright Technicolor and neon lights reflect off the tendrils. He smiles at her and nudges her, laughing while they toss rings in an attempt to win a giant stuffed goldfish. She wins, and he congratulates her.

 

It’s the last time she sees him for five years. And she realizes, she never learned what his curls looked like in starlight.

 

College flies by and drags on, marked by men who never measure up to something she’s afraid to name. Katniss moves into her new apartment, starts her new job, and her life as an adult. On a whim one night, she goes with Prim to a baseball game at her old high school, to watch her sister’s boyfriend play.

 

Her breath hitches when she notices a coach in the dugout with blond curls peeking out from under his cap. When he takes the hat off to wipe his brow, she smiles in recognition. After the game, Prim runs off to celebrate with Rory, and Katniss heads to the dugout and calls out a greeting.

 

It is two months later that she finally learns what she’s always wanted to know about Peeta’s curls. What would they feel like twisted around her fingers while he kisses her into oblivion?

 

Heavenly.


	7. Three A.M. Fire Alarms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Exactly how the title sounds. Modern AU. Some fluff written for Trick-or-Treats. Leave a Trick-or-Treat! In my inbox and get a drabble. Include a prompt if so desired, otherwise, anything goes! 1,436 Words. Written September 2014. 
> 
> WARNINGS: RATED T, no other warnings

_ Screech! Screech! Screech! Screech! _

 

The noise of the fire alarm yanks me from sleep.

 

“Not again,” I groan. Throwing off the covers, I grope around in the dark and find my slippers, shove them on my feet and glance at my bedside clock. “Three AM? You have got to be kidding me!” I don’t have much of a choice, so I head for the door.

 

Keys. Where are my keys? The piercing wail continues and I find my keys tossed on the kitchen counter. Then I jog downstairs and out into the night.

 

I immediately regret my decision. “Shit! It’s cold!” I gasp out, crossing my arms over my chest. All I have on are my pajama pants and a tank top. Autumn has arrived, and I have been caught unprepared.

 

Moving away from the building, I try to stay separate from the other residents of my apartment complex, but they haven’t gotten the memo. A small group of them drifts with me towards the copse of trees at the edge of our parking lot. Including 4B, Peeta Mellark.

 

At least, that’s the name on his mail. Not that I’ve read his mail. Some of it accidentally got shoved into my box and I had to knock on his door to return it. That’s all. I don’t know anything about him. Not a thing…

 

Except that his eyes are a bright shade of lapis with lighter flecks of sky blue near the center and the tiniest rim of gold around the edges. And that his smile tilts to the left. And he’s got a tattoo on the underside of his upper right arm, although I don’t know of what. Oh, he’s a photographer of some kind and has a subscription to at least two photography journals.

But I don’t know a thing about him.

 

I bounce on my toes a little to try and keep warm in the chilly autumn air, rub my hands up and down my arms and curse the stinking fire alarm for going off  _ again. _

 

And 4B, Peeta Mellark, drifts over to stand next to me.

 

“Hey,” he says. His wavy blond hair is tousled from sleep, his eyes bright.

 

“Hey,” I manage without letting my teeth chatter.

 

“At least they picked a great time for a fire drill,” just a touch of sarcasm tints his voice and I can’t help but laugh.

 

“It’s getting ridiculous. What does this make, three times in one week?”

 

Peeta shakes his head, “I dunno, I must have missed the others.”

 

“Lucky,” I say, and switch to rocking on my feet. “Although, they were at more reasonable times.”

With a smile, he extends his hand out to me. “I’m Peeta, by the way.”

 

“Katniss,” I tell him and shake his hand. It is solid and warm and he grips my hand firmly, not like I’m some kind of delicate flower. My lips tick up into a half smile. The warmth and respect make me want to burrow against him and let his hands cover me in warmth.

 

_ Whoa there, Katniss. We’ve just been introduced. And you are not in the market for a boyfriend _ .

Yanking my hand back, I return to hugging myself and hopping about to keep warm.

 

“You look like you’re freezing,” Peeta eyes me. There’s no point denying it as I am wracked with a shiver. He reaches behind his head and pulls off his hoodie, ruffling up the hair on the back of his head. Then he holds it out to me. “Here. Take this.”

 

“No,” I shake my head. “I can’t.” All he’s got on underneath is a t-shirt. He won’t be much better off than me.

 

“Please, Katniss. I’ll be fine, but you’re hopping around.” When I still hesitate, he shakes the garment a little. “Consider it a Thank You for returning my mail instead of just trashing it. My water bill was in that stack.”

 

With a throaty sound of annoyance, I snatch the hoodie from his hand and quickly pull it over my head.

 

_ Oh hell. _

 

The thing is deliciously warm, infused with his body heat. And as I shove my head through, I catch a whiff of something spicy and elemental. Fuck. He smells so good.

 

I try not to be obvious about smelling up his clothes as I thank him and shove the sleeves up a little so they don’t cover my hands. Unable to meet his eyes, I end up staring at his chest. He’s broad shouldered and if his arms are any indication of what he looks like under the shirt…

 

_ Shit AND hell. _

 

“Not a problem,” he gives me another one of his lopsided smiles and shoves his hands into the pockets of his pajama pants.

 

As awkward silence descends, and I drop my gaze again, unsure what to say to him. That’s when I notice the logo on the grey hoodie I’m wearing.

 

“Seriously? You’re a  _ Cubs  _ fan?”

 

Peeta grins at me.

 

“Ugh, you know they missed out on the playoffs in a big way. AGAIN,” I say in disgust. “I can’t wear this thing.”

 

Holding out a hand, Peeta chuckles. “Well I could take it back and let you be cold. If you haven’t the guts to wear it.”

 

“No,” I say, wrapping my arms protectively around myself. “Now I don’t feel so bad about letting  _ you  _ freeze instead.”

 

“Ouch,” he gives me a puppy dog face and I feel myself melting towards him.

 

_ Shit, damn, AND hell. _

 

“Maybe you could drag me to a game one day. You know, show me what  _ you  _ think makes a team worthwhile. Cardinals fan, I’m guessing?” He says it with a smile, but his eyes waver a little bit. A touch of nerves perhaps.

 

Wait…is he asking me out?

 

I blink a few times and fight the urge to bite my nails. I can see the moment he decides he’s gone too far when his smile slips a little and his eyes dart to the left for just a second.

 

“I would. It’s just…I don’t really know you,” I stumble over the words a little bit. It’s strange for me. Usually, I have no problem turning down guys I’m not interested in. And I am not interested in 4B.

 

The last few weeks at work have been awful and stressful. I’ve got so much on my plate. I can’t think about dating or romance right now, no matter how sweet or hot or funny he appears to be.

 

Peeta drops his head. “Yeah, I understand. I just thought it’d be a fun way to get to know you. As neighbors or friends, and uh, if you ever change your mind—“

 

“All clear!” The super shouts and I give Peeta a half-hearted smile before setting off towards the apartment building at a brisk pace, leaving him behind. I run up the stairs to my apartment and lock myself inside.

 

I’m wide awake now and there’s only an hour and half left before I have to get up to get ready for work. So I head to the kitchen and start a kettle for tea. Maybe it will help sooth me back into sleep. I pace while I wait for the whistle and jump when a knock sounds on my door.

 

“Who the hell…?” Stomping over to the door, I look through the peep hole and stare. Peeta stands in the hall, one hand rubs the back of his neck as he glances to his left for a moment. I hadn’t gotten the creep vibe from him, but maybe I was completely wrong. Putting on my best scowl, I yank the door open, making him jump.

 

“Look, Peeta, I meant what I said.”

 

“I know,” he says, holding his hands up in surrender. “But, um, you still have my hoodie. And, well, it’s kind of my favorite.”

 

“Oh,” I say, my argument brought to a screeching halt. “Right.”

 

My cheeks are flaming as I pull it off, breathing in one last inhale of whatever the heck it is Peeta Mellark smells of. It’s going to bother me that I don’t know. Handing over the hoodie, I find I can’t quite meet his gaze.

 

“Thanks,” he says softly. “Good night, Katniss.” Then he turns and walks back down the hall.

 

Everything in me screams that this is wrong. All wrong. Behind me, the kettle starts to whistle.

 

“Peeta, wait!” I call out to his back. He comes to a halt and turns to face me. “I’m making tea for myself. Would you like a mug?”

 

Slowly, the lopsided smile returns to his face. “Yeah. I’d like that.”


	8. Pre-Game Festivities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Modern college AU, written for Trick-or-Treats 2014 with the request: Older Katniss. 1,668 Words. Written October 2014. 
> 
> WARNINGS: RATED T, mild sexual content. Very mild.

“Hello?” Katniss asks into her phone, her voice groggy and a little hoarse. A cool October breeze from the open window slinks over her shoulders, raising gooseflesh and making her snuggle back into the warmth in her bed.

 

“Surprise!” her little sister yells on the other side of the line.

 

“Prim? What surprise?”

 

“Uncle Haymitch scrounged up three tickets so Rue and I are gonna be in town for the football game today! I told her we could crash at your place but she’s trying to be all polite and crap, thinks we should ask or at least give you some warning.”

 

Katniss’s eyes fly open. “Prim,” she sits up, clutching the sheets to her breast, her heart hammering. “How much warning are you giving me?”

 

“We’ll be there in half an hour. I’m soooo excited! She’s never been to a division one football game and I told her she was totally going to freak about all the hot guys at your school.”

 

At this, Katniss’s eyes cut to her right and she bites her lip. At least she’s got some time. There’s a moment of muffled chatter from Rue and Prim laughs.

 

“Right,  _ I’m _ going to freak over the hot guys and Rue’s going to be a sideline quarterback. And you get to be the serious, aloof grad student saddled with hyper undergrads for the day. The whole thing can be completely beneath you if you want.”

 

“Slow down, Little Duck. Tell Rue it’s not a problem and I’ll see you in thirty.”

 

“Thanks, big sis! You’re the best!” There’s some garbled squealing speech as Prim starts talking to her friend before the call disconnects and then silence.

 

With a deep breath, Katniss turns and nudges the man sleeping in her bed. “Peeta. Peeta, you have to go.”

 

He mumbles into the pillow and throws an arm around his head. “I’m serious, Peeta” She shakes him with more force this time. “Get up.”

 

Flipping onto his back, he gives her a devastating smile, his eyes a shade brighter than when he’s fully awake. “Where’s the fire? I don’t have to be there for a few hours yet.” Then he reaches out and pulls her down for a long slow kiss, his hand massaging the back of her head, the fingertips of the other tracing lazy lines up and down her spine. For just a moment, she surrenders to his lips, the heat of his chest beneath hers, and a soft sigh escapes her.  When his mouth leaves hers to kiss along her jaw, she finally manages to gasp out the words.

 

“I need you to go, Peeta. Now.”

 

He freezes beneath her and loosens his hold so he can look into her eyes. “Why exactly do I need to leave  _ now _ ?”

 

“That was Prim on the phone.”

 

“Uh-huh.”

 

“She and her friend Rue are on their way here.”

 

“And?” he draws the word out, his eyes guarded.

 

“And you have to go,” she mumbles.

 

Muttering a curse, Peeta flips them over, caging her in with his arms and smiling down at her playfully. “Are you ashamed of me, Katniss?”

 

“I’m not ashamed of you,” she snaps.

 

“So you’ve got a problem with introducing your boy-toy to your sister, then” he teases.

 

“No! You’re not my boy-toy. It’s just that Prim’s only twenty and I don’t want to traumatize her with my–,” She waves a hand between them, struggling to get the words out. “With my bedroom life.” It’s the wrong thing to say.

 

Peeta searches her face. “I guess two years makes a huge difference to you, then.”

 

“Obviously not as much as six.” And that’s a worse thing to say.

 

With a shove against the mattress, Peeta leaves the bed, retrieving his jeans from the floor and tugging them on. “Don’t worry, I won’t traumatize your sister.” The words are muffled by his shirt as he yanks it over his head, but she can still hear the hurt in his voice.

 

“It’s not like that,” Katniss insists.

“If you aren’t ashamed of us, then why are you acting like it, Katniss? She’s an adult, I’m sure she can figure out that you’re not a nun.”

 

Unable to think of a decent reply, Katniss looks down at her hands folded in her lap. Silently, Peeta sits on the edge of the bed to put his socks and shoes back on while Katniss steals surreptitious glances at his broad back. How can she explain it to him when she’s not been able to explain it to herself yet?

 

Shoes double knotted, Peeta stands and leans over Katniss, cupping her chin in his hand, lifting so she’s forced to look at him.

 

“I love you, Katniss.”

 

“Peeta,” she pleads.

 

“I don’t expect you to say it back, but I love you. And I thought I would be okay accepting whatever you were willing to allow me. It isn’t that I haven’t enjoyed every second with you, because I have. But I’d like a chance at something real with you.”

 

“We have something real,” she protests weakly.

 

“Lounging on the couch with take-out and a movie is nice most of the time,” he concedes with a smile. “Someday, though, I want to be able to take you out dancing. Introduce you to my brothers and meet your family, too. Take a hike to that lake you’re always going on and on about. Make out in a car on the side of some dark, deserted road.”

 

“Peeta,” she tries again but can’t go beyond saying his name.

 

He presses a sweet kiss to her cheek and whispers to her, “I’m not asking to drag you onto Sports Center and declare my feelings for you in front the entire country. Whatever this is between us, I’m tired of acting like it’s something shameful. That’s all. Think about it. Please.”

 

She stares up into his open blue eyes, thinking that he’s never asked her for more than she can give. And now, all he wants is for her to  _ think _ about it. The flicker of hurt in his gaze seals it for her. She nods, “Okay, I’ll think about it.”

 

His smile is wide and bright as he stands, slings his book bag over his shoulder. Wrapping the sheet around her torso, she follows him to the door. He turns on the threshold, bracing his arms on either side of the door frame. “Wish me luck?” he asks with a grin.

 

“You don’t need it,” but she rises to her toes and winds her fingers in his hair, yanking his head down so she can kiss him. He moans into her mouth, rests one hand on the small of her back as her lips move sinuously over his. When she finally releases him, he groans.

 

“I won’t be able to leave if you keep kissing me like that.”

 

“Get going,” she chuckles and shoves him a little. He barely budges, but drops his arms and grins.

 

“Have fun with Prim today,” and then he leaves her standing in her doorway, draped in nothing but a sheet and a stupid grin on her face as she watches the movement of his legs and ass while he walks away. With a final wave over his shoulder, he turns the corner in the hallway and she heaves a sigh before going back into her apartment.

 

A glance at the clock tells her she’s running out of time, so she quickly makes the bed and hops in the shower, allows herself five minutes of distracted thinking while she scrubs her hair and her skin.

 

She hadn’t meant to fall for someone six years younger than her. But when she’d met Peeta Mellark while volunteering at the local food bank in early April, fallen she had. Hard.

 

Twice a week, they had worked the same shifts. He flirted with her and made her laugh when she couldn’t remember a single man who’d made her really smile since her father died eight years ago. When summer arrived and they’d discovered both of them would be staying on campus, he asked for her number. She had given it and things between them had blossomed rapidly. He didn’t care that she was a twenty-eight year old grad student while he wouldn’t turn twenty-three or finish his undergrad until next year. He made her feel like someone precious and vibrant, someone worth breaking rules and boundaries for. It didn’t hurt that every touch between them only left her ravenous for more.

 

Still, other than one attempt that hadn’t gone too well, she couldn’t bring herself to go out in public with him, terrified of what people would think of them. After all, she was a teaching assistant at the university and as a fifth year starter on the football team, he was something of a local celebrity. Granted, he’d been careful not to end up in any of her classes, although that was easy since he was majoring in language composition and her masters was in environmental science, but she didn’t think people would stop to learn that before sneering at them. Or worse.

Remembering about all the reasons she shouldn’t be with Peeta only unsettles her, ruining her last moments of tranquility before her sister arrives. She’d meant to talk herself into making another try at going out with him, and instead, she’s practically talked herself into breaking up with him.

 

Turning the knob to stop the water, Katniss rushes from the shower and hurriedly dresses. She’s running out of time. Once she’s thrown on jeans and one of her few school shirts, she braids back her damp hair. At the last minute, she slams the window shut. Then she grabs an orange and a granola bar from the kitchen, scarfing them down just before her doorbell rings.

 

“Katniss!” Prim and Rue squeal in unison, launching themselves at her the instant the door opens. Katniss is able to smile at the girls’ enthusiasm, momentarily forgetting her talk with Peeta.


	9. Shopping Cart Mania

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Modern AU written for Trick-or-Treats 2014 with the request: Katniss and Johanna go grocery shopping. 588 Words. Written October 2014. 
> 
> WARNINGS: RATED T

“Who died?”

 

“What?” Katniss looks up at her unfortunate grocery shopping partner.

 

“Come on, Brainless. No one buys six bulk bags of full-size snickers, pudding mix, red wine, and a can of Cheeze-wiz unless someone bit the bullet or got dumped.”

 

Scowling at Johanna, she puts the can of Cheese-Wiz back on the shelf. “No one died.”

 

“Well you certainly didn’t just break up with anyone. Have to be dating, first.”

 

“Tomorrow’s Halloween, Jo. You know, trick-or-treats,” Katniss hedges the actual question, choosing to focus on the full-size Snickers part of the list.

 

“Aren’t you a generous neighbor?” The sarcastic tone grates on Katniss’s nerves.

 

With a sigh, Katniss shoves the cart and heads towards the checkout. “Remind me again why you’re here?”

 

“To piss you off,” Johanna tosses a large package of beef jerky into the cart and Katniss brings it to a screeching halt. “What? They’re for Haymitch.”

 

“Could you not remind me that you’re fucking my sociology professor?”

 

Johanna grins at Katniss and bumps their hips together. “Jealous?”

 

“Gross. No.”

 

“He’s hot.”

 

“He’s forty.”

 

“Thirty-eight,” Johanna corrects, ticking her finger back and forth and clucking her tongue. “Yep. You’re jealous.”

 

Katniss tips her head back, making a wailing animal noise in her throat.

 

“I can make sure you get an A,” Johanna sings as she pulls out a frozen pizza and tosses it on the growing heap in the cart. Then she makes an obscene gesture and Katniss turns the cart to slam it into Johanna’s middle.

 

“What the fuck, Everdeen?”

 

“Knock it off, Mason.”

 

Johanna grins and grabs the cart, pulling it squarely between them and climbing to stand on the lower rack. “Are you doing poorly in Haymitch’s class, Brainless?”

 

“Please, I ace that crap.”

 

Leaning forward with a leer, Johanna examines Katniss’s face more closely. “Must be a long time since you got laid, then.”

 

Katniss’s cheeks flame. She’s never been comfortable talking about her personal life in the kind of detail Johanna seems so confident throwing around. She makes a loud noise of exasperation and gives Johanna her best I-will-rip-you-throat-out look.

 

“So touchy,” Johanna says unapologetically. “Fine, I’ll let you be a prude this once. But I ask you again. Who died?”

 

“Your dog. Oh wait, your brother. It’s hard to tell their ugly mugs apart.”

 

“Amateur,” Johanna scoffs, but she hops down from the cart.

 

They’ve been reluctant roommates for a little over a year now. When Annie had told Katniss she’d found someone to take the fourth spot in the house they were renting, Katniss had pictured someone with a quiet strength, like Annie herself. Emphasis on the word quiet. Johanna was not quiet. She was abrasive and perceptive, eager to find Katniss’s weak spots and dig her way deeper.

 

She infuriates Katniss, but at the same time, Katniss knows that if she ever needed a partner in murder, to deal with a cheating boyfriend or worse, Johanna would be the first to volunteer. That kind of loyalty is rare.

 

They continue shopping a few more minutes, real snack cheeses and herbed crackers added to the heap. Johanna even tosses in a few of the bulk bags of Skittles.

 

“Peanut free, for the little ankle biters with allergies, you know.”

 

Katniss bites back a small smile and says, real casual, “If you don’t have plans tomorrow night…”

 

Johanna shrugs. “I do, but they aren’t until later. So yeah, I could help you pass out candy to the snot factories.”

 

With a nod, Katniss steers the cart towards the register.


	10. A Dragon Rider and a Jedi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Modern AU fluff, written for Trick-or-Treats 2014 with the request: Katniss and Peeta are both single parents taking the kids around their neighborhood Trick-or-Treating and keep running into each other. 1,301 Words. Written October 2014. 
> 
> WARNINGS: RATED T, fluff and more fluff

The first time he sees them, Peeta smiles and nods to the mother. She nods, but doesn’t return the smile, instead reaches out a protective hand to corral the girl dressed as a Jedi. As they walk off, Peeta waits for his own daughter to receive her treat then run back down the house’s walkway, a bright smile on her face.

 

“Awesome!” She shakes her bag of treats and skips ahead of him to the next house, her blonde braid swinging, axe slung across her back. He takes long strides to keep up with her, so he doesn’t lose her in the throng of children making their way through the neighborhood.

 

The second time he sees them, Peeta waves. She’s a lovely looking woman, her black hair in a neat braid, dark olive skin, and angular features. At this distance, he can’t tell what color her eyes are. Peeta can’t remember seeing her before. Since moving into the neighborhood, he has yet to meet many of the residents, though. She hastily returns the wave then pulls her phone from her back pocket to check something.

 

Or maybe he’s managed to creep her out already.

 

Madge died eight years ago and since then, he hasn’t had much of a social life. At first because he’d had his hands full trying to take care of Sabrina, who was only four at the time. Then things got rocky with his job and they ended up moving around a bit until settling in Panem County. Now, he just feels rusty whenever he talks to other adults.

 

“Oh my gosh! Your lightsaber is so awesome! Who are you dressed as? Mara Jade? Another Jedi? Do you have your own Jedi name?” Peeta smiles and watches Sabrina approach the mystery woman’s daughter.

 

“Thanks. My Dad and I built it. And I’m dressed as my own Jedi character.”

 

Sabrina asks all kinds of questions about the building of the lightsaber as they walk back towards their waiting parents.

 

“Raven. We need to get a move on. We still have to call your father tonight so he can see your costume.” The mother’s voice is clear and resonant, if touched with a little impatience.

 

“I have to go,” Raven looks at Sabrina a moment before shyly saying, “I really like your Astrid costume.” Then she runs off to her waiting mother and Sabrina has to shout her “Thanks.”

 

She walks back over to Peeta, a little dejected. “I thought, maybe…”

 

“Hey, pumpkin, it’s okay. Maybe she goes to the same school as you and is just in a different class. Or she could live here, near us. Who knows, you might get another shot.” He chucks her under her chin and she gives him a small smile.

 

“Yeah. Maybe.”

 

Turns out, her next shot is on the very next block.

 

Sabrina’s waiting her turn at a house decked out with cobwebs and leaping mechanical spiders when Raven and her mother walk up.

 

“Last house,” the mother states as Raven leaves her side.

 

Peeta takes a deep breath and decides to just introduce himself, for Sabrina, at least.

 

“Nice night.” He mentally kicks himself. Really?  _ Nice night? _ That’s all he can come up with?

She makes a noncommittal noise.

 

“I’m Peeta, by the way,” he tries again. “Peeta Mellark. We just moved into the neighborhood last week.”

 

For a moment, her gaze twitches between his face and his outstretched hand. He’s about to retract it when she takes a step towards him. With one brisk shake, she releases his hand and retreats.

 

“Katniss Everdeen,” she tells him before turning her gaze back towards the front door. 

 

Peeta follows her gaze to see that Raven and Sabrina have hooked up again. Sabrina is showing off her axe, a cheap purchase from a craft store that she and Peeta had dressed up to look exactly like Astrid’s axe. He knows Sabrina is very proud of their creation and his heart lifts at the sight of her happily sharing with another kid who appears to be her age and share her interests. So what if Raven’s mom is a little difficult to approach?

 

As the girls draw closer, Katniss’s phone pings in her pocket and she pulls it out. Peeta sneaks a sideways glance at her and notices the frown now furrowing her brow.

 

“Mom? What is it?” Raven asks and Sabrina shuffles slowly towards Peeta. He feels guilty for eavesdropping, and Sabrina isn’t helping, digging through her candy in what Peeta is sure is an attempt to listen in as well.

 

“It’s from your Dad. He—“

 

“He can’t call us tonight.” Raven’s voice holds a slight bitter note to it.

 

“I’m sorry, honey. But right now, he’s really—“

 

“Busy. I got it. Let’s just go home.”

 

Sabrina turns to face Raven and Peeta can see the struggle to contain her excitement. “We still have another street we haven’t gone down yet. Do you want to join us? Since you don’t have to be anywhere now?”

 

“Sabrina,” Peeta starts but Raven’s face has broken into a smile.

 

“Can we, Mom? Please?”

 

“I suppose so,” Katniss says reluctantly.

 

“We promise we don’t bite. At least not until the next full moon,” Peeta jokes. It’s corny and awful, and Sabrina groans loudly.

 

“Daaaad. Please don’t embarrass me.”

 

But Katniss’s lip twitch into something resembling a smile for just a second before it’s gone.

“Alright, Raven,” she agrees. “One more street.”

 

The girls cheer and hurry around the corner to the next street, their parents in tow. Peeta shoves his hands in his pocket, digging around for something to say.

 

“Thank you,” Katniss beats him to breaking the silence. He looks up to find her looking at him already and smiles. She has gray eyes. A strange, smoky color that makes him think of fires in winter and Sabrina’s collection of agate pendants.

 

“Not a problem. They seem to be getting along well. And it’s been a long time since Sabrina’s been able to make a real friend. I’m just sorry about your husband.”

 

“Ex-husband,” Katniss tells him with a grimace.

 

“Oh. I’m sorry about that, too. Give me just a second to remove my foot from my mouth.” Peeta turns away from her and pretends to yank something from his mouth.

 

She laughs, a musical sound. In front of them, Raven turns around and watches a moment. Sabrina whispers something and the girls both giggle. A smile takes full form on Peeta’s mouth and he tucks his hands back in his pockets.

 

He takes a deep breath of relief and watches his daughter a moment before the girls race up to the nearest house, their joint shout of “Trick-or-Treat!” travels back on the cool breeze.

 

“Is Mrs. Mellark stuck with the job of handing out the candy tonight?” Katniss’s hesitant question pulls him back.

 

“No,” he shakes his head. “She passed away eight years ago. We’re  _ that _ house with the bowl and a sign on the porch.”

 

Tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, Katniss looks down at the ground. “I didn’t mean to…that is I…”

 

“It’s okay, Katniss,” he assures her. “There’s really no way you could have known.”

 

She shifts and toys with her jacket for a moment before opening her mouth again. “We live in 1211 Mockingjay.” The words rush from her mouth all jammed together. “In case Sabrina wants to stop by sometime,” she adds.

 

Now the smile on his face is so wide he can barely contain it. “We’re just down the way from you, then, in 1208.” He can’t be sure in the glow of streetlights, but he thinks she’s blushing as the girls come running back.

 

The night is crisp and clear, full of the laughter of children and the promise that things might get better.


	11. Untitled Halloween Drabble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Modern AU, written for Trick-or-Treats 2014 with the request: Katniss and Peeta arguing over whether to hand out store bought or homemade treats. 563 Words. Written October 2014. 
> 
> WARNINGS: RATED T, no other warnings

“Just gonna jump in the shower real quick! Got flour in my hair again!” Peeta shouts down to Katniss as she’s unloading the grocery bags.

 

“Alright. Dinner in fifteen!” Singing along with the radio, Katniss alternates between shoving food in the pantry and stirring the pot simmering with brown rice.

 

Until she discovers the horrific, super-sized, neon colored bag lurking at the bottom of one of their grocery sacks. She gingerly lifts the offensive thing and wrinkles her nose. The thud-thud-thud of Peeta’s footsteps on the stairway warns her of his approach and she turns around to scowl at him.

 

“What the hell is this, Peeta?” She waves the sack of candy in his face and he steps back away from her. “We  _ talked _ about this. We are  _ not _ handing out some cheap, chemical filled abomination to our neighbors’ children.”

 

Peeta sighs and snatches the bag from her hands. “And I still say it’s a bad idea to make something for them.”

 

“Why? As a kid, I would have traded my right ear for a homemade candy apple or one of your mummy cupcakes. It’s so much better to get original treats. Instead of the same garbage house after house.”

 

Tossing the thing on the counter, Peeta runs his hands up her arms and pulls her into a hug. She goes reluctantly, still scowling at him.

 

“Because their parents might not think so, Katniss. How easy would it be for someone to lace something like that? I just don’t want to alienate our neighbors.”

 

She leans back in his arms to give him the full force of her scowl. “We know every single one of them, Peeta. I seriously doubt they’re going to accuse you of trying to drug their children.”

 

“What about that Cashmere and Brutus who just moved in down the street? We don’t really know them.”

 

“One family? You’re holding back chocolate filled mummy cupcakes or carrot cookie witch’s feet because of one family?” She can’t believe they’re having this argument again. “They can politely decline for all I care.”

 

“Maybe I’m tired of baking,” he says and it’s only the spark in his eye that belies the fact that he’s now teasing her.

 

With a loud sound of exasperation, Katniss twirls out of his embrace and returns to fixing dinner. He slips up behind her, wrapping his hands around her waist and pressing soft kisses to the back of her neck.

 

“We always do homemade treats, Peeta. The kids around here, they love it. They look forward to it.”

 

“They do?” he sounds disbelieving.

 

With a violent stir of the rice, Katniss turns in his arms and wraps her own around his neck. “They do.”

 

He rubs his hands up and down her back and whispers, “Why does this mean so much to you?”

 

She shrugs and kisses his neck. “It just does.”

 

“Alright,” he concedes. “I suppose I can whip something up in three days.”

 

Standing on her toes, Katniss kisses his lips. “I’ll help,” she offers.

 

Peeta groans. “Last time you offered to help me bake something, we ended up having to sanitize the counter top and start over.”

 

She shrugs and dances back to the stove. “Not my fault you look sexy kneading bread.”

 

Peeta laughs and opens the pantry, peruses the contents and pulls out some mint extract. “How about cake balls decorated as eyeballs?”


	12. Echoes in the Tunnel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Modern AU, anonymous request for homeless Katniss singing in the subway. 1,740 Words. Written November 2014. 
> 
> WARNINGS: RATED K, no other warnings

Ignoring the glances thrown her way, Katniss settles onto her bench and adjusts her scarf. Technically, it’s the city’s bench, but every weekday, between 7:30 and 9:30 am, it is hers. She pulls her legs up and crosses them, then opens the battered guitar case, propping the lid on the back of the bench. With a caress of the strings, she removes the instrument from the case. Bending over, she works on tuning, holding her pride together with both fists clenched.

 

She managed a passable washing in a public restroom yesterday, even managed to scrounge up some shampoo to wash her hair. Her braid is far less oily today than on previous days, but that doesn’t seem to matter. Her tattered clothes, hollow cheeks, and the grime she can’t quite seem to scrub from beneath her short nails has branded her.

 

Once the instrument is tuned, she sits up straight and takes a deep breath, letting her eyes close a moment so she can block the squealing of subway trains that echoes through the underground corridors. She hates being down here. But in spite of the many hostile glares she receives, this is still the place where she has the most luck.

 

Conjuring an image of a sunny Saturday before her father died in a mining accident and everything went sideways, she smiles softly and lets fly her song, fingers plucking nimbly at the guitar that has now belonged to three generations of Everdeen singers.

 

Her voice and notes join the cacophony of the morning commute. While some continue to glare, others stop and listen a moment. A few smile, even fewer stay to hear the whole song.

 

She is not wanted here, a reminder that things are never perfect. Homeless for six months now, she’s been singing on the streets and subway stations for almost as long. Launching into the next tune, she pushes down her anger at the people who walk by, tries not to dwell on the “helpful suggestions” tossed her way every day.

 

_ Get a job. _

 

And how is one supposed to print a resume without a printer? How do you use the library when you don’t have an address and they politely ask you to leave the premise? How do you find work appropriate clothes when every spare penny you can earn goes towards food?

 

So Katniss sings. She takes one day at a time, and subsists, unwillingly, on the kindness of strangers.

 

A few are beginning to feel like people she knows. Singing in the same places week after week has its advantages. She can keep track of how long she’s been in one spot by the people who pass. Sometimes, she fabricates stories for them.

 

There’s the tall, handsome businessman in an expensive suit and even more expensive coat that he didn’t bother to button. iPhone pressed to his ear, black hair and piercing gray eyes, a red scarf draped carelessly around his neck. She wonders if his wife wraps that around him as she presses a farewell kiss to his cheek before he rushes from their apartment. Katniss imagines him to have a buxom blonde wife and a pack of rowdy kids that fall silent at his softest command. No doubt he has to schedule everything because he’s so busy. That’s why he takes such fast, long strides through the subway. On days when his gait is slower, he’ll fumble in his pocket for a dollar bill to drop in her case. Once, he left a ten. She thinks that was likely an accident, though.

 

There’s the red-haired policeman who trudges by a song or two into her day, bags under his eyes, but usually tossing a handful of spare change into her guitar case and giving her a sympathetic smile instead of arresting her for vagrancy. Maybe once, he’d been as low as her. Something in the way he looks at her with those sleep-deprived blue eyes then looks away makes her think that this man, perhaps understands.

 

Next comes the brisk brunette woman in a high collar coat and stiletto heels, a lackey trailing behind her, tapping and swiping at a tablet as he tries to keep up with her. “Yes, Miss Enobaria. Of course, Miss Enobaria.” She rarely ever spares Katniss a glance.

 

Here’s the man with black skin and angry hazel eyes. Angry eyes that turn oddly soft when he looks at her. He rarely drops coins, but she’s guessing, based on his coveralls and worn steel-toed boots that he doesn’t have much change to spare. This is something she can understand. She hopes he has someone to go home to at night. Someone who will rub his shoulders and smile while he massages her feet. Someone to share the burdens they carry. She nods gratefully as he digs in his pocket and drops a few coins.

 

She’s three songs in when her next signpost walks by, a bubbling blonde with six kids of mixed ethnicity and age gathered around her. For some time, now, Katniss has thought this woman might be a nanny.

 

“Oh, Miss Delly! Can we stop to listen to the pretty music today?” A young girl with dark brown hair and skin tugs on Miss Delly’s pants and stops in front of Katniss. Miss Delly glances at her watch and Katniss waits for the denial, but something new happens today.

 

“Alright, Rue. We’re a little early. Two songs and then we go.”

 

Rue claps and settles back to watch as Katniss sings. Meeting the young girl’s gaze, Katniss feels herself drawn into her steady, wondrous eyes. Folding her hands, Rue smiles at Katniss and sways on her toes. Around her, the other kids stop to listen. Some hold to Miss Delly, others sway with Rue.

 

The song ends and Rue leads the group of children in applause. Even Miss Delly smiles and whispers, “How lovely,” to the toddler now propped on her hip. The applause of the children is a ripple effect, and several people Katniss does not recognize pause to wait for her next offering.

 

Adjusting the strings, Katniss starts her next song, a mournful ballad she’s worried may upset the young audience, but she is a creature of habit. And Katniss pours herself into the song. Into the words.

 

Years of struggle with a mother caught in depression after her father’s death. A sister with leukemia and not enough money to spread between the two for medicine and therapy. A tiny coffin and a cold room in a mental institute. The empty, broken look in her mother’s eyes as Katniss left, dressed in her army desert camo. A contract that meant money and food and security and three dead friends at the hands of an IED, a hearing aid in her left ear that couldn’t quite compensate for the damage and shrapnel scars running from ankle to waist. Discharge papers that proved useless in finding her a job in a failing economy. A letter of regret telling her she was now alone in this world, but still owed for the final care and death expenses. Another with the bleeding words EVICTION NOTICE stamped across the top. A tangle of VA red tape that meant no help, despite the prevalence of cheery yellow ribbons slapped on car bumpers and store windows.  _ Support Our Troops.  _ But she guesses she’s not a soldier anymore.

 

She blinks and fights back tears, not willing to let strangers see her break. They already think she’s weak or worthless. Why give them validation?

 

With every ounce of strength left in her, she holds the jagged pieces together and finishes, even manages a smile and a hoarse “Thank you” for Rue, who begs a few coins from Miss Delly to add to the meager collection in Katniss’s guitar case. Then they scamper off and Katniss takes a moment before continuing.

 

_ He’s late, _ she thinks as the blond man stops over to the side, right under the ad for a trendy new clothing store. As usual, his suit is rumpled, glasses askew, ashy curls in disarray. He’s taping a message on his phone, his face a mask of zero emotion. He shoves his glasses up his nose.

Of all the people she regularly notes walking past throughout her day, he’s the one that peaks her curiosity the most. She’s seen him several times, and nothing set him apart from the others until yesterday.

 

When he’d paused right next to her bench, she’d wanted to yell at him to get away from her, but he’d finished the text on his phone and went to drop it in his coat pocket. In a swift movement, he’d also dropped the bakery bag he’d been carrying in her case. Then he’d disappeared into the crowd.

 

At first, she’d been skeptical. It must have been an accident. Or a trap. Surely he was trying to drug her or something. But why? Gingerly, she lifted the bag in front of her and sniffed. The aroma was heavenly. It was fresh and warm, the heat seeping through the paper to scorch her exposed fingertips. And the seal on the bakery bag was still firmly in place.

 

Did he mean for her to have it? Had it really been an accident? She had packed up and rushed to the nearest utility closet, the bag tucked safely under her shirt. She jimmied the lock and ducked inside the cramped space, sitting on a crate of paper towels for the restrooms. After a moment of staring at the thing, she ripped open the paper to reveal a pair of perfect cinnamon and raisin bread slices. It only took her a moment to scarf down the first, but she took her time savoring the second. The flavor spread across her tongue and she moaned in delight. They were hearty and surprisingly filling. So when she ducked back out and shifted to the park earlier than she usually did, Katniss didn’t have to worry about finding something to eat.

 

Now, she fixes her gaze on him, willing him to look at her. When his eyes finally lift, she catches his attention for just a moment and they share a small smile before he looks away and walks off, no doubt late to a meeting for his job. But it’s enough, she thinks. A silent “Thank you” for the bread that gave her hope, if only for a few hours.


	13. Knock Before You Bake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Modern College AU. In which Peeta decides to bake cookies at 3 am and makes a lot of noise. 694 Words. Written November 2014. 
> 
> WARNINGS: RATED K, no other warnings because it’s nothing but fluff.

The clatter of metal on Formica is the last straw.

 

First it was the mixer. Then the noise of the oven door and the beeping of the timer. Now this? When the RA had pointed out the common kitchen area right outside my dorm room, I’d been ecstatic. Food preparation close at hand. I was not prepared for night owl chefs.

 

Glancing at my clock, I grind my teeth in frustration. It is three-fricking-thirty a.m. and I am still awake. Something is wrong with this picture.

 

I kick my covers off and slide my feet into slippers just as I hear the oven door slam shut again. Shoving my arms into a baggy sweatshirt, I stalk across the room and throw the door to my dorm room open with a loud—

 

BANG!

 

He jumps and looks up at me, eyes wide, clutching the counter behind him.

 

“Think you could make some more noise there? It’s not like any of us are trying to sleep or anything.”

 

His mouth opens and shuts a few times while I stand there glaring at him, arms crossed. I am ready for a fight.

 

Then I catch my first whiff of fresh baked cookies.

 

“S-sorry,” he finally says, diverting my attention back to the rude person responsible for my being awake. “I just put the last batch in, and then I’ll be gone.”

 

“Why are you baking cookies at 3 am anyways?” I snap, trying to control the saliva rapidly gathering in my mouth. They smell delicious. Is that caramel?

 

“Um, I was hungry?”

 

We stand there a moment, staring at one another.

 

That’s when my stomach growls loudly.

 

The noise cuts through the tension and his gaze softens, his lips twitch and he digs a row of perfect white teeth into his bottom lip.

 

“Would you like one? Before you finish me off?”

 

I shake my head a little and his smile grows. He pushes himself away from the counter and turns his back to dig in the fridge.

 

He emerges with a carton of milk and pours a cup. “You sure? They’re caramel-pecan.”

 

Another growl issues from my stomach and I let out an annoyed huff before settling at the table. I refuse to give in completely, though, and glare at him the entire time as he lifts a couple cookies from the baking sheet, spatula flashing in the fluorescent light. Placing the cookies on a plate, he slides them and a glass of milk in front of me before dishing up a serving for himself. Then he lowers his broad frame into the seat across the way and gives me a tentative smile. Eyes still on mine, he takes a bite of his own cookie.

 

Reluctantly, I smile back, although I’m sure it looks more like a grimace. I’m still mad about being woken up, but at least I’m getting cookies out of the deal—

 

“Oh my gooooooood,” I moan out as the cookie dissolves on my tongue. He grins at me and lifts his glass of milk in salute before taking a drink. I finish both cookies and use my finger to get all the crumbs up off the plate before raising my gaze to meet his again.

 

Blue. His eyes are blue and framed with long blond lashes, his hair falls in blond waves that tickle the tips of his ears and curl on his neck.

 

He needs a haircut. Definitely not my type.

 

“Can I have some more? Since you woke me up and all,” I say the last firmly, with as much anger as I can muster. But he just smiles and stands, leaning over the table to scoop up my plate.

 

“Sure. I’m Peeta, by the way.”

 

“Katniss,” I say automatically, watching him deftly serve out two more cookies before bringing my plate back to me.

 

“Well, Katniss. Next time I decide to bake at 3 am, I’ll try to be a little quieter.”

 

I eye the plate hovering in front of my nose for a moment, then reach out and set it on the table.

“Or you could knock first,” I say before stuffing another cookie in my mouth.


	14. Untitled Gadge Drabble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Modern AU. Written in response to a prompt/request "knocking on the wrong door." 733 Words. Written January 2015.
> 
> WARNINGS: RATED T, for shirtless boys and shameless ogling.

Head buried in her sheet music, Madge climbs the two flights of stairs to the third floor. Her fingers wiggle in what would seem a random pattern to some people, but air piano helps her with her muscle memory, and therefore with executing a flawless performance.   
  
Her brow furrows as she reaches a particularly difficult section. Well, she’ll just have to practice that later. In the meantime, she’s late meeting Katniss for their weekly cheap Chinese and bad TV night. Katniss Everdeen is her only real friend in this overwhelming city, and even though they don’t talk much, Madge is grateful for the time they spend together. Their silences are far more pleasant than most conversations she has with people.   
  
With a sigh of frustration, she stops at Katniss’s door and knocks briskly. Then she twirls a lock of her hair in her finger, eyes till glued to the music in her hands.   
  
The chain on the door rattles before the panel swings open to reveal a wide expanse of lean muscled male flesh. Madge feels her jaw drop and the sheets of paper flutter to the ground.   
  
“Are you lost?” he asks in a sardonic voice.   
  
“Uh…Um..no,” she stutters. Finally able to tear her gaze from the contours of his abs, she scrambles to the floor to scoop up her music. He doesn’t even bother helping, just braces his arms on the door frame and crosses one booted foot in front of the other. She can feel his eyes boring into the back of her head. “Where’s Katniss?”   
  
She stands in a jerking motion and clutches her scrambled papers in a messy stack over her chest with both arms, hoping the action will hide her hammering heart. Unable to look at him, she stares at the space between his naked flesh and the door frame. That’s when she notices the cluttered apartment behind him. No overstuffed green sofa or piles of books.   
  
This isn’t Katniss’s door.   
  
“I think she’s one door over,” the naked beast confirms.   
  
“Right. Okay. Sorry to bother you,” she mumbles and turns to go.   
  
“You a musician or something?” His question stops her.   
  
“Yes,” her feet are rooted to the spot, but she doesn’t turn back to him.   
  
“Piano, right?”   
  
She nods and tightens her arms further around her middle.   
  
“My mother plays a little. Tried to get me or one of brothers to learn, but we turned out to be a bunch of uncultured swine.”   
  
Madge’s lips betray her, spasming a little. She’d thought exactly that when she’d taken in his dusty work boots and pants, the attire of someone who labored for a living. Turning her head a moment, she lets her gaze sweep from steel protected toes up to where his pants rest just below his hips to reveal an enticing set of v-cut hips. Follows a trail of dark hair up to his navel, past flat and dusky nipples crowning the most magnificent pair of pectorals she’s had the pleasure of viewing in the flesh. She lingers there, admiring his lithe build before finally lifting her eyes to take in his face.   
  
He isn’t smiling, but she thinks she sees a hint of laughter in his quicksilver eyes. Lifting one heavy brow, he holds her stare while wild thoughts of licking his stubbled jaw consume her.   
  
“By all means, princess. Look your fill,” he teases.   
  
Righteous anger courses through her.   
  
“Well, I wouldn’t bother to but you clearly don’t know what a shirt is or how to wear it, swine” she snaps out then jerks her head back in the direction she’s turned and stomps down the hall to Katniss’s door.   
  
The stranger’s rumbling laughter follows her down the hall and her cheeks flame. Who is he, anyway, to answer the door half-dressed and then accuse her of ogling?   
  
She knocks on Katniss’s door and bounces on her toes while the stranger leans against his door, to watch her, still chuckling.   
  
“My name’s Gale. What’s yours, princess?”   
  
Thankfully, Katniss opens her door at that instant and before she can muster a greeting, Madge pushes her way inside. Except she’s infuriated and humiliated and wants the last word.   
  
With a grin of triumph, she pokes her head back into the hallway and meets his laughing eyes head on.   
  
“Your Majesty, will do just fine.” Then she shuts the door before he can speak again.


	15. Ghosts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Modern AU, prompted by loving-mellark to write Everlark, #5 one night stand and getting pregnant AU. 1,015 Words. Written January 2015. 
> 
> WARNINGS: RATED T, allusions to abortion, vague sensual content

The pounding on her door might as well be inside her skull. But she can’t avoid everyone forever. Opening the door, she tries to scowl, but it only makes the headache worse. She’s lightheaded and nauseous, unable to keep anything down.

 

“Where the hell have you been, Katniss? I’ve been so worried about you.” The moment comes when he sees her tear stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes. “Jesus, what’s wrong?”

 

He doesn’t wait for an answer but folds her into a hug. She has no more tears, at least not right now, so she just stands there, cocooned in warmth. When he lets her go and chucks her chin, she can’t hold it back anymore. Whispers the damning words.

 

“What? How?”

 

She tells him and he steps inside, the lock a deafening  _ click _ .

 

“What do you want to do?”

 

She’s no idea and tells him so, waiting for the worst. A lecture, a tirade. Something, anything. She feels empty and lost. If only she could get angry. She needs to get angry if only to feel her blood pulsing and her breathing quickening and not as though she’s drowning.

 

He settles her on the couch and holds her close, she takes a deep breath and listens to his heart instead of hers. Steady. Steady. Steady. The sounds and feels lull her gently down to slumber she needs desperately. Four nights now of fretting in the dark, eyes wide and heart wrenching.

 

“Just tell me how I can help. Tell me what to do for you and I’ll do it,” he whispers just before the weight wins and pulls her into sleep.

 

*********

 

He’s there through every step, although she leads the way. He’s always there to drive the car or hold her close and wipe the tears away. Doctor visits, late night readings confirm what she already knows.

 

She just isn’t ready. Not like this. Maybe not ever.

 

On the walk inside, someone yells.

 

“Are you gonna let her kill your baby?”

 

With clenched jaw, he shields her from view and guides her faster to the door. When he returns her home, he tucks her in and feeds her soup. But when he goes to leave, she pleads.

 

“Always,” he says and lays down beside her, on top of her pile of blankets. She’s hit with regret and hides in sleep.

 

*********

 

She smiles and laughs as the dog races by her then tackles him. He feigns defeat and grabs the Frisbee, wrestling it from canine teeth. As the sky grows dark, they jump and play. And for her, flying is freeing.

 

Flushed and laughing, he walks them home, scratching Daisy behind her ears. The canine struts and whines and begs. Until she caves and gives a treat.

 

At her door, he smiles and bids “Goodnight” before he walks away. A question sits on her tongue. She bites it back.

 

Too soon.

 

********

 

Her friends still don’t know, that’s clear to see. It’s in the way they try so hard.

 

“This one’s nice.”

 

“He likes to hike.”

 

“Are you sure you don’t want to?”

 

Another night spent alone, but not entirely. Her phone chimes. Chimes. Chimes. And she smiles each time, tapping out her answer.

 

_ Aren’t you on a date? _

 

_ Not going well. We’re just not right together. _

 

_ Let her down easy. _

 

_ I think she just dumped ME. _

 

_ Well that’s what you get for texting another woman. _

 

_ Can I come over? I think I need a hug. _

 

_ Fine, you baby. Daisy misses you, anyways. _

 

She makes some snacks, and when the bell rings, her heart swoops while her dog barks. They chat and snack, share a laugh and quiet stories. When morning comes, they wake entwined.

 

He blushes and stammers out an apology before he leaves, and for the first time, she wonders …does he see her as tarnished now?

 

************

 

Music thrums and laughter tinkles in the candlelight.

 

He twirls her round and steals her breath, but tonight is hers. A long held goal finally real. A degree her father only dreamed for her.

 

They’re all here tonight. Everyone she loves. To pat her on her back and raise a glass in toast.

 

“You should be proud,” he whispers with bright eyes. “I know I am, Dr. Everdeen.”

 

Her cheeks heat. She can barely breathe. With everything she’s got, there’s still something she wants.

 

When the night ends and he takes her home, she asks him to come inside. It’s nothing new, but she needs to know if it could be different.

 

Snuggled on her couch, she waits and waits for an opportunity. It never comes, and in a panic, she seals her lips to his.

 

_ Stupid. Stupid. Stupid _ , she thinks.

 

But then…he moans.

 

Hands tangle in hair and lips caress, she sighs into the night. He pleads her name, his eyes confused. It’s taken years to get to here, but she answers before he asks.

 

“I need you. I always have. I’m sorry it took so long. Do you want me, too?”

 

“Yes,” he says in desperate tones. “You have no idea.”

 

Piece by piece, they remove their cotton armor, trailing it up the stairs. She doesn’t deserve this. He insists it’s the other way around.

 

Heated skin to burning flesh, she writhes, entreats for more. He gives her all in sumptuous kisses and hungry touches. She’s floating on a dream. Screaming out his name.

 

And then…overwhelming peace.

 

********

 

It is a chance encounter, but she grips his hand, her body starting to shake.

 

“Hey,” he pulls her from darkness and kisses her cheek. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

 

“In a way, I have.”

 

She nods across the park and he sees, his body tensing as recognition dawns.

 

It’s odd to see that face today, a one night stand from long ago. But she turns and smiles into sky blue eyes, knowing she would have ended here anyways. Then she stands on tip toe and whispers in his ear.

 

At first he scoffs, tells her that’s a poor joke.

 

Then she shakes her head and with joyous tears, says it one more time.

 

“Peeta, I’m pregnant.”


	16. Untitled Everlark Drabble #28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Modern AU, Written in response to a prompt/request to write Everlark: knocking on the wrong door AU. 845 Words. Written January 2015. 
> 
> WARNINGS: RATED T, no other warnings.

Today is the day she commits assault.

 

She’s perfectly justified in doing so. The only reason it will be assault and not murder is because before she got out of the door, Annie had grabbed her bow and ran. Fine. She didn’t have time for shenanigans. Her fists would do just as well. No one treats her baby sister that way.

 

No one.

 

Three months ago, Katniss had told Prim to stay away from that boy. He was arrogant. A smooth talker. And far too old for her. Prim protested, claiming that two years wasn’t  _ that  _ big of a difference. It was beside the point. Big difference or no, Prim had charged ahead and gotten her heart broken.

 

Cheating scumbag.

 

Katniss fumes as she parks her car, double checking the address. Before climbing the stairs to apartment 451. She regrets having never met Prim’s boyfriend. Granted she’d been swamped with work and school and instead formed her opinions of this ass wipe through Prim’s stories and Johanna’s dark comments about him, but she knew she’d been right.

 

That wasn’t going to stop her from messing up his face.

 

Squaring her shoulders, she forces her features into what she hopes is a disarming smile and knocks on the door. When it opens, she’s a little stunned.

 

He’s hot.

 

Broad shouldered with ash blonde waves and sparkling blue eyes, reminiscent of ice over water, framed with insanely long lashes. What does he do with them, use mascara? He quirks a brow and smiles at her, unsettling her further with his pink lips and ruddy, freckled cheeks, and—-holy shit! She’s checking out the guy that publicly cheated on her Little Duck!

 

“Can I help you?”

 

And suddenly, she can understand why Prim was so enthralled with this boy. But she won’t be.

Regaining her composure she clears her throat before verifying her target.

 

“Is this the home of Blake Welsh?”

 

“It is,” he says and that’s all she needs. He’s about to say something more when she pulls her arm back and punches him square on the nose. He staggers backwards with a yelp of pain, covering his now bleeding nose with his hands.

 

“Cheating asshole,” she mutters, shaking her sore hand as she swiftly retreats.

 

The sounds of him sputtering and cursing follow her down the stairs and she smiles gleefully. If only she knew which car was his…

 

**Three Days Later**

 

“I’m having a movie night with some friends, Katniss. Please don’t embarrass me.”

 

“What makes you think I’d do something to embarrass you?” Katniss grouses, shoving her stack of school work in a desk drawer.

 

“Because I still don’t know where you disappeared to three days ago and Johanna’s driving me nuts with hints about how I ‘really don’t wanna know.’ And also you’ve been spending way too much time around her. She’s a bad influence.”

 

“Well,” Katniss shrugs and slams the drawer shut. “Maybe you really don’t want to know. And how is standing up and speaking up for yourself and your loved ones a bad influence?”

 

Prim groans and turns to leave the room, but whips around in the doorway. “Just try to behave yourself, please.”

 

Katniss crosses the room and hugs her sister.  “I will, if you promise you’ll have fun. He’s not worth your moping.”

 

“Hey,” Prim says softly. “That’s why I’m doing this. To start having fun again.”

 

The doorbell rings and Prim scampers off, shouting “I’ll get it,” for Annie and Johanna to hear. Prim’s friends continue to arrive and Katniss busies herself making sure the snacks are laid out and everyone knows where the bathroom is. They’ve just about decided on the movie they want to watch when the doorbell rings again.

 

From across the room, Katniss can see the familiar figure on the threshold. Her blood boils at his audacity and she’s ready to charge when Prim exclaims the most mortifying words.

 

“Peeta! Oh my god! What happened to your nose?”

 

Katniss freezes in place, her eyes bulging as her every muscle freezes.  _ Peeta?! _

 

_ Oh no. _

 

The blond chuckles wryly and scratches the back of his neck. “It was the weirdest thing, Prim. I was house sitting for…my neighbor…and this woman comes to the door, asks if it’s,” he coughs before continuing. “ _ His _ apartment, and when I said it was, she decked me. I think it was just a misunderstanding.”

 

During his explanation, Prim’s hand comes up to cover her mouth.

 

“No. Way,” she breathes.

 

“Sounds incredible, I know. But I was happy to pass the message along to its rightful recipient after I’d heard about what happened between you and him.”

 

“Peeta, I don’t know what to say.”

 

He smiles and shrugs. “You could ask me in for movies and catching up with everyone.”

 

She nods and steps aside, letting him in. The instant he spots Katniss, he freezes.

 

“Peeta, this is Katniss. My sister,” she spits out the title and glares. “Katniss, this is Peeta Mellark. He’s Blake’s  _ neighbor _ , and one of my friends. Is there something you’d like to say to him?”

 

_ Oh Shit. _


	17. Untitled Coffee Shop AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Modern coffee shop AU, Written in response to a prompt/request. 4,125 Words. Written March 2015. 
> 
> WARNINGS: RATED T+, mild sexual content.

**The First Monday**

 

It’s a glorious spring day. Warm, balmy air and a pristine sky greet Katniss as she leaves her apartment for class. Instead of taking the subway, she decides to walk and bask in the bright sunshine. After the dreary winter days, the walk helps her clear her head, renews her motivation to finish that project for organic chemistry that she’s been procrastinating. Along the way, she’s pleasantly surprised to find that the new coffee shop on the edge of campus has finally opened.

 

Tipping her head back, Katniss takes in the old fashioned wood sign with a steaming mug sitting next to a hand crank coffee grinder, the words The Daily Grind printed along the bottom in elaborate script. Pushing the door open, she smiles at the warm interior. Plush couches and a few scrubbed wood tables equipped with outlets are scattered randomly through the place. It’s already busy. There’s a short line at the register and most of the seats are full. Katniss takes a deep inhale. Her nostrils fill with the bitter smells of espresso mixed with the sweetness of flavored syrups and pastries.

 

She almost forgets that it’s Monday, at least until she’s waiting for her drink order, head bent over her phone, reading an e-mail from her mother. A cheerful voice calls out…

 

“I have a tall mocha, extra chocolate for Katpiss—Johanna!”

 

Katniss’s cheeks flame and her head snaps up. The girl who took her order is bent over laughing hysterically, and the barista holding her drink is just as flustered as Katniss is.  It’s not the first time someone has perverted her name that way. And it probably won’t be the last.

 

She steps up to the counter and scowls at the barista. He’s medium height with a stocky build, looks like the sort that should be playing football on scholarship, not working the opening shift at a campus coffee shop.

 

“I think that’s mine,” she says, all traces of her good mood evaporating.

 

His face grows even redder as he hands the cup over to her. “I’m really sorry about that. Johanna’s a bit of a practical joker.”

 

Katniss looks over and finds the girl smirking at her before she turns back to take the next person in line’s order.

 

“I hope this doesn’t keep you away in future. But just in case Johanna tries to be a prick again, what’s your real name?”

 

Her eyes dart back to him and she studies his embarrassed face, his blue eyes that seem to be begging for her forgiveness, and the rumpled mop of blond curls on his head. Like he couldn’t be bothered to at least comb them when he woke up. Or maybe he styled them this way on purpose.  Her scowl deepens and she decides that this will be her only time in this place.

 

“Doesn’t matter. I won’t be back. And tell your friend she isn’t original,” Katniss says before marching back outside with her drink in hand.

 

**The Second Monday**

 

She’s only here because she can’t stand to frequent the Starbucks downtown. It’s always overcrowded and the baristas on the morning shift have been burning the espresso lately. And while Johanna the Rude works here, at least her drink was perfect last week.

 

“Come back for more, Katpiss?” Johanna asks as Katniss steps up to the register.

 

“You need to work on your people skills,” she retorts. “Then again, if you can easily remember one customer from a week ago, your sunny personality must be keeping them away in droves.”

 

There’s a snort to her left and Katniss looks over, startled to see the blond barista from last week. His shoulders are shaking and he’s clearly trying to hold back a laugh. She feels a flicker of warmth as she looks back to find Johanna examining her with narrowed eyes.

 

Katniss places her drink order and slides into a seat at the counter to flip through her American history text while she waits for her coffee.

 

“Do you have Abernathy for that class?”

 

It takes Katniss a moment to realize that the voice speaking over the hiss of the steamer is directed towards her, but when she finally does, she finds the blond barista looking at her expectantly, his hands still busy making drinks. The line at the register has grown, now extending out the door, and there’s a long queue of cups next to his station.

 

“Uh, yes,” she says and drops her gaze back to her text, a universal sign for:  _ This conversation is over. _

 

He gets the hint, and a few minutes later, he hands a cup to her.

 

“Here you are.”

 

“Thanks,” she mutters, removing the lid and setting it aside for a second to cool. She finishes the chapter she’s reading and takes a sip of her coffee.

Katniss sputters and tries not to spew the bitter drink all over the place. The blond barista is back in front of her in an instant.

 

“Something wrong?”

 

“Yeah,” she bites out. “This isn’t what I ordered.”

 

She looks for the printed label on the cup and scowls.

 

_ Brainless (a.k.a. Katpiss) _

_ 12 oz. Mocha _

_ Ex. Mocha _

 

“I’m so sorry. Here, let me fix that for you,” he reaches out and she hands over the cup, careful to throw a glare at Johanna for the names, but she’s also irritated with him. Although the label has the right drink printed, the contents themselves are all wrong. That’s his fault.

 

Crossing her arms on the counter, she watches him as his hands fly through the motions of remaking her drink. She notices that he’s careful to not make it as hot this time.

 

“Here,” he hands the new cup to her with a sheepish smile. “I really am sorry about that. I think I got yours mixed up with the guy behind you.”

 

“It’s fine,” she mutters and takes a sip, closing her eyes in delight. Perfect. “You’re forgiven.”

 

He smiles at her and gets back to work, and surprisingly, she decides to stay and enjoy her coffee. The weather took a turn for the overcast this week and she still has time before her first class starts. When she gets up to leave, the blond barista waves and calls out a farewell to her, and she gives a brief, awkward wave in return.

 

**The Third Monday**

 

Katniss is running late and firing an e-mail off to her advisor, so she doesn’t look up when a voice shouts, “Mocha for Kat.”

 

Ugh, that’s almost as bad of a nickname as Katpiss, or the one her high school best friend used to call her, Catnip.

 

Still looking down at her phone, she grabs the cup and takes a taste test. The grimace is immediate on her face. What is that? It’s bitter and gross. She actually hates the taste of coffee, which is why she orders something that masks the taste. All she really wants is the pleasant buzz that comes with all that caffeine. But this is getting annoying.

 

“Excuse me,” she flags down the nearest barista, a petite red head with a thin nose that gives her an almost fox-like appearance. “My drink is wrong.”

 

“Peeta,” the fox girl says. “I’m on drive thru, could you deal with this?”

 

To Katniss’s chagrin, Peeta turns out to be the blond barista who messed up her drink last time.

 

“It’s wrong. Again,” she says with a huff and hands it back to him.

 

He looks frazzled and overworked, but this is his job, she tells herself. Still, he smiles and apologizes, verifies her order and then fixes hers first, ignoring the short row of cups awaiting his attention.

 

“Busy day?” She asks when a twinge of guilt hits her. She knows what it’s like trying to balance work and study, and maybe deal with drama going on back home. The least she can do is be a little friendlier, even if he keeps screwing up her drink order. He seems nice, after all.

 

“Yeah,” he says without looking up. “Midterms feel more like a death match this semester. We’ve been swamped since six.”

 

“So do you have Abernathy for American history, too?” The question slips out while she’s distracted by his eyelashes. He’s kind of cute, she decides. Probably got a girlfriend.

 

“Yep,” he answers, popping the lid on her drink and handing it to her with a smile. “He’s tough, but usually provides amusement. I’ve never before had a teacher feel the need to use visual aids while covering the Whiskey Rebellion.”

 

Katniss laughs and takes her coffee. She’s compelled to linger as he moves to continue making drinks.

 

“He does usually reek of booze, doesn’t he?” She hides her smile behind her drink and she takes a deep gulp. Once again, it’s perfect. Right down to the temperature. It confuses her, how he keeps managing to mess it up so badly the first time and get it perfect the second.

 

But she’s late and has to excuse herself to make it to her class on time, which gives her very little time to think about Peeta and his oddities.

 

**The Fourth Monday**

 

“Really, it’s no problem,” Peeta assures her as he takes the cup from her and adds the extra chocolate he forget the first time around.

 

Katniss bites her thumb nail and watches the line grow. Somehow, Peeta manages to chat with other customers while he fixes her drink and then the other customers’. She’s struck by how kind he is to everyone, even the superbly rude man in a suit who practically chews Johanna out when she tells him that they’re out of the caramel drizzle for his macchiato.

 

And when the guy leaves, Katniss watches surreptitiously as Peeta places a hand on Johanna’s shoulder, whispering something into her ear. Johanna cackles and punches Peeta on the arm before she goes back to work.

 

As much as Johanna’s twisting her name annoyed her at first, Katniss has gotten used to the other girl’s brash humor. It’s almost a requirement now for them to trade insults while she places her drink order. Almost as much of a requirement as it seems to be for Peeta to screw up her drink order.

 

The strange thing is, out of all her trips in here, Katniss has never seen Peeta mess up anyone else’s.

 

**The Fifth Monday**

 

Katniss eyes the cup Peeta holds out for her, lips pursed in skepticism. “I don’t know if I can trust you.”

 

He laughs brightly and pushes the cup into her hands. “Tall mocha, extra chocolate, not too hot. I think I’ve finally got your order memorized.”

 

Accepting the coffee, Katniss ignores the tingles that skip up her arm as their fingers brush. She moans around the first sip and smiles at him.

 

“It’s great,” she says and his smile widens, making her heart thump harder for a few beats. An adorable blush creeps across his cheeks as he braces his hands on the counter.

 

“Isn’t it odd that I know what you always order, but I don’t know your name?”

 

Her eyes dip to the cup and she rolls her eyes when she sees that Johanna has once again labeled her drink for “Brainless.”

 

“Katniss,” she says. “With an ‘n’ not a ‘p.’”

 

“Katniss,” he rolls her name over his tongue and then points to the brushed nickel tag pinned to his apron. “I’m Peeta, by the way.”

 

“I know,” she answers and then her face heats as she realizes what she just admitted to him. A goofy smile takes over his face, though and she tries to divert his attention by switching topics. “I don’t like the taste of coffee. All the milk and chocolate hides the taste.”

 

“Oh?” he asks, curiosity sparking in his eyes. “I could make something else that might fit your tastes better.”

 

“No,” she laughs. “Wouldn’t want to confuse you when you’ve finally got me figured out.”

 

Her blush deepens at her comment and Peeta chuckles. He’s opening his mouth to say something else when Johanna shouts his name to catch his attention.

 

“Until next time, Katniss,” he calls out before returning to work and she heads out for her class.

 

**The Sixth Monday**

 

Since she left her apartment a little earlier than usual, she reaches the coffee shop before the rush that occurs right before eight a.m. classes start. Johanna takes her order and she hikes herself up onto the stool at the counter. The spot is quickly becoming hers.

 

“Hey,” Peeta greets her warmly. “The usual today?”

 

“Well you’ll just have to read the label to find out,” she says and then bites her lip. Wow, that was flirty.

 

Luckily, Peeta just smiles and steers the conversation straight to their shared professor and his latest hijinks. She learns that Peeta is in Abernathy’s two o’clock class on Tuesdays and Thursdays, which explains why she saw no sign of him last Friday morning when she searched the huge auditorium for his blond curls.

 

She’s so caught up in talking to him, that she’s almost late for class, only remembering to go when Peeta glances at his watch and says something to her about her hanging around longer than usual.

 

**The First Tuesday**

 

“Is this seat taken?”

 

Katniss jumps at the voice she recognizes but has only heard in a coffee shop until now. Her shoulders relax as she looks up at Peeta, hands curled around the straps of his backpack. He looks different with his hair hidden under a baseball cap, but his smile is the same.

 

“No,” she whispers and shifts her piles of notes so he can sit in the chair opposite hers.

 

“Thanks,” he says as he swings his bag off and pulls out a laptop. “It’s pretty busy in here today.”

 

She glances around and sees that he’s right. The library looks more like his coffee shop tonight. Peeta doesn’t speak again for awhile, his forehead creased in concentration as he taps away on his laptop. At one point, he gets up, leaving his things on the table and returns with a couple books that he sets in his lap and flips through. For her part, Katniss works on finishing several assignments she’s already started for her various chemistry classes. Example problems, two lab reports.

 

But every now and then, she glances up to check on Peeta’s progress, too. Once or twice, she swears he’s already looking at her, his eyes darting away when their gazes meet for the barest moment.

 

“Is it too soon to need a break?” he asks at one point, and she watches as he stretches his arms.

 

“Oh definitely,” she says loftily. “Breaks are for the weak.”

 

Peeta leans across the table and grins at her. “Can I lure you away from studying with an apple and goat cheese tart from The Daily Grind?”

 

“Are those any good?” she asks, her attention snared by the mention of food.

“I’ve seen them in the case but have never been brave enough to try one.”

 

“Oh, we need to fix that,” he says, packing up his stuff. Katniss does the same and they make their way out of the library and down the street towards the coffee shop.

 

It’s easy talking to Peeta as they walk. Banal things such as their majors and where they’re from lead into more interesting topics.

 

“Wait, how did you get chased up a tree by a black bear?” he asks with one eyebrow quirked, interrupting her story about how she and her dad used to go camping all the time.

 

“There was a beehive,” she says with a shrug. “We apparently got too close.”

 

He laughs and gives her an incredulous look, but somehow, it makes her feel empowered rather than degraded. So she continues her story and Peeta keeps asking questions, like he can’t wait to hear what she’ll say next. It makes her realize how little she knows about him.

 

“What about you?” she needles.

 

“What about me? I grew up in a city. No black bears or packs of wolves to make things interesting.”

 

“There must have been something,” she presses and Peeta takes off his baseball cap to ruffle his hair before replacing it. She wishes he’d leave it off.

 

“Um, well, I have two brothers, and life with them was never dull.”

 

Before she can ask anything else, he pulls open a door and she looks up to realize they’ve already made it to the coffee shop. Peeta holds the door for her and greets the workers behind the counter once he follows her inside.

 

“I was thinking about what you said. And I think I came up with a solution to your coffee problem.”

 

“My coffee problem?” she eyes him warily and he ducks behind the counter.

 

“Yeah. About not liking the taste but still wanting the kick. Do you trust me?”

 

“Maybe,” she answers with narrowed eyes, but he grins boyishly and washes his hands before elbowing the fox face girl, whose name she’s recently learned is Jackie, to make room for him to fix a few drinks.

 

While Peeta prepares their coffees, Katniss picks a table near a window, looking out on the campus lit up for the evening. It’s actually kind of pretty.

 

“Okay, this is decaf, but tell me what you think of the taste,” he says as he shyly slides a drink in front of her.

 

Katniss removes the lid and sniffs while Peeta busies himself arranging the tarts on plates, one in front of each of them. The drink smells rich and she takes a hesitant sip.

 

The creamy liquid hits her tongue and she moans, immediately taking another swallow. It’s more like hot chocolate than coffee. In fact, she can’t taste any coffee at all.

 

“What is this?” she asks before taking another gulp and holding the drink in her mouth to relish the flavor before she swallows. “It’s decadent.”

 

Peeta smiles and describes the drink. More milk and chocolate, no foam, a smidge less espresso, but enough to get the caffeine kick.

 

“I think I’m gonna have to change my regular order,” she tells him as she sets the drink aside to taste the tart. “How do I even ask for that?”

 

“I don’t know yet. I’ll have to figure it out.”

 

Katniss smiles around a mouthful of tart and once her mouth is clear, she points her fork at him. “You have to tell me as soon as you’ve got it figured out. In case I come in here one day and you aren’t working. Which means you also have to teach the other baristas how to make it.”

 

Peeta ducks his head, his cheeks growing pink as he bites into his own tart. “Anything you want, Katniss.”

 

She crosses her ankles and watches him a moment, not sure what to think about the warm tone of his voice or the way he’s looking at her right now. He confuses her.

 

“So you never answered my question about what you do in the city to keep from getting bored.”

 

“Oh,” he says. “Well me, personally, I drew.” Peeta reaches behind his chair and digs a book out of his bag before opening it to show Katniss.

 

“Wow,” she murmurs, stunned by the accuracy with which he’s depicted one of the gardens on campus. It’s among her favorite places to go to unwind since it’s one of the few places with any kind of greenery.

 

He puts the book away and turns back to her and starts to share other stories of city escapades, crazy subway rides, and getting thrown out of the natural history museum because his brother decided to strike obscene poses with a display while the oldest Mellark brother took pictures.

 

The longer they talk, the more her confusion unravels to be replaced with a sense of peace and comfort.

 

**The First Thursday**

 

She needs an afternoon caffeine kick after a rough week staying up late trying to finish papers for three separate classes, so she stops in The Daily Grind for a coffee and a few minutes to just breathe before she has to go to the lab. When she joins the line, her eyes sweep the employees and she’s hit with disappointment.

 

There’s no sign of Peeta.

 

Then she notices something odd. A chalkboard next to the register proclaiming a new special: Chocolate Decadence. There’s a brief description of the drink Peeta made for her the other night, but what captures her attention are the three petaled white flowers that outline the entire announcement, hand drawn in painstaking detail.

 

Katniss flowers.

 

Her breath catches and unexpected warmth flows through her. She’s only seen the few sketches he showed her last week after their library meeting, but somehow she just knows. These flowers were done by Peeta’s hand.

 

After she gives her order to the cashier, a girl she doesn’t recognize, she sits at their table, facing the window and savors every sip of her Chocolate Decadence.

 

**The Tenth Monday**

 

“Are you ready for finals?” Katniss asks as Peeta hands her a Chocolate Decadence and a cheese bun.

 

“Can we talk about something else?”

 

With a shrug, Katniss digs into her cheese bun and Peeta asks what her plans are for the summer.

 

“Besides working two jobs and trying not to fight with my mother?”

 

“Two jobs…Hawthorne’s Hardware and archery lessons at the local sports complex, right?”

 

Katniss swallows down her bite of cheese bun and blinks at him. She thinks she mentioned that maybe once. “Yeah, how’d you remember that?”

 

Peeta nonchalantly picks up a cup and starts fixing what looks like a skinny latte from where she sits. “I remember everything about my favorite customer.”

 

“Everything except my coffee order,” she teases and a blush rapidly creeps up Peeta’s neck.

 

“About that,” Peeta says, not meeting her eyes. “I may have messed your order up on purpose a few times.”

 

“I don’t understand,” Katniss says, her brow furrowing in confusion. He still won’t look at her. “Why would you do that?”

 

“How else was I gonna get you to speak more than two words to me?”

 

Finally, Peeta announces the drink he’s just finished and turns to her, searching her face for a reaction, but the truth is, she has no idea how to respond.

 

“Um, I better get going,” she says, scrambling to pack up her things and wrap what’s left of her cheese bun in a napkin. This time, it’s her who can’t look at Peeta. “See you later.”

 

**The Twelfth Monday**

 

The hot humid air squeezes down on her until she can’t breathe right. Katniss is afraid to put a name to the thing she’s been feeling since her last stop in here two weeks ago. It tastes almost like dread and she hates it. Her stomach has been roiling and her mind hurting. She took her last final on Friday, but stuck around to help her roommates prep their apartment for subleasing over the summer since all of them would be going home.

 

Thinking about the long summer that stretches in front of her leaves her breathless and jumpy. Katniss had been avoiding The Daily Grind and Peeta right along with it for the last two weeks, but as soon as she opens the door and steps inside, all of those tangled feelings melt away.

 

Peeta’s head jerks up from what he’s doing behind the counter and a slow, tentative smile creeps across his face. Once she’s seated at her usual spot at the counter to wait, she crosses her arms and leans on the tiled surface, watching Peeta until he turns to hand over her coffee.

 

“About what I said, Katniss,” Peeta starts. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

 

“Do you want my phone number or not?” She asks, diving straight to the point. Katniss can’t imagine going more than a week without hearing his voice or seeing his smile anymore.

 

For a moment, Peeta looks confused, and then the smile is back on his face. “Yeah, I’d like that. Very much.”

 

**The Thirty-Fifth Monday**

 

Katniss shoves the alarm clock off her nightstand, the impact with the floor cutting off the blaring noise it started making about a minute ago. Then she returns her hand to Peeta’s hair and tugs on the curls until he’s moaning into her core and sending her singing into bliss. When she collapses back down on the bed, his lips caress her thighs and he smiles impishly up at her.

 

“I think I like this wake up kick better than coffee,” she admits to him and he laughs before moving up the bed to hold her close.

 

“So do I,” he whispers.


	18. Always Bet On Peeta

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Modern AU, Written in response to a prompt/request for “we kind of got past the point of ‘taking this game of gay chicken too seriously’ when you took your pants off but I really do not mind at all.” 2,441 Words. Written April 2015. 
> 
> WARNINGS: RATED T, for shirtless boys and some kissing

Finnick’s lips twitch in a smile as Gale sways back away from him.

 

“This is a horrible idea,” Katniss mutters under her breath.

 

“Hey,” Johanna says with a shrug of her shoulders. “Tall, dark, and broody should have kept his mouth shut about how ridiculous of a game it is. Then Finn wouldn’t have challenged him.”

 

“He’s not gonna like it when he loses,” Katniss says with a roll of her eyes. “He hates losing at anything. Plus he’s going to cost me money.”

 

“He might win,” Peeta says shyly, eyes still watching the game as the two girls look askance at him and Madge snorts, although Katniss appreciates his quiet support of her best friend.

 

“He’s already caving and Finnick’s barely even trying,” Annie claims proudly. Her expression mostly hidden in shadows while she lounges in her chair, the playful smile on her lips the only real hint of what she’s thinking.

 

Having gone camping for the weekend by the lake, the group of friends now relaxes under the stars, a campfire started, and a cooler full of alcohol and food to roast over the fire nearby. Gale’s careless comment about how stupid this game he’d heard of, gay chicken, was had led to an almost immediate challenge from Finnick.

 

As Katniss watches, Finnick reaches up and runs a hand lightly up and down Gale’s arm. Gale’s jaw clenches and Madge starts chanting quietly.

 

“Cave, cave, cave, cave.”

 

“Who’s idea was the betting anyways?” Katniss asks testily. By the time she’d figured out what was going on, the wagers were being placed and Gale was fuming that no one had bet on him. So, of course, Katniss had thrown her support to her oldest friend. Johanna grins, leaning back to further enjoy the show.

 

“That was mine, Brainless. You missed it while you were busy flirting with Blondie earlier.”

 

Katniss flushes and turns back to the game with a huff. Beside her, Peeta runs a light touch over her hand. Part of her wants to pull away. They’ve only been dating for about a couple weeks and already their friends are being pigs about it. But she shouldn’t punish him for that, so she turns her hand enough for him the lace their fingers together. When he gives her hand a reassuring squeeze, she squeezes back.

 

Finnick licks his lips and whispers something. Gale’s eyes narrow and a flush creeps up his neck. And when Finnick steps even closer…

 

“Fuck! It’s not worth it,” Gale grumbles and stalks away. Finnick pumps a fist in the air as Johanna, Madge, and Annie cheer.

 

“Really, Gale?” Katniss snaps, digging twenty bucks out of her wallet to hand over to Johanna. Peeta sheepishly does the same and Katniss feels a twinge of guilt. He only bet on Gale because she did.

 

“What? You think your boyfriend could do better?” He plops down in a seat and glowers at them.

 

“Actually, I do,” Katniss says loftily, crossing her arms. It’s a bad idea. A horrible idea, really. Peeta’s body tenses next to her. It’s unfair of her to shove him into this, she knows that. But damnit, she works hard for her cash and this whole scenario is Gale’s fault. She can’t seem to stop the brash words coming out of her mouth. “I’ll bet he can not only last longer than you,” she pauses to let that innuendo sink into the crowd, garnering a few snorts and chuckles, “but that he can beat the pants off of Finnick.”

 

Johanna crows gleefully. “That sounds like a bet, Brainless.”

 

Refusing to back down, Katniss keeps her eyes focused on Gale, ignoring Peeta’s soft entreaty of her name.

 

“You’re on,” Gale says. The group breaks into a flurry of chatter and scribbled notes as Johanna starts taking bets.

 

“Katniss,” Peeta says again, tugging on her hand, drawing her attention back to him.

 

She cradles his face in her hands, and even though she knows it’s low and unfair, she kisses him full on the mouth, in front of all their friends. When she pulls away, he’s staring at her, astonished.

 

“Kick his ass,” she orders, and Peeta nods, standing up slowly and straightening his shirt before walking over to stand a few feet away from Finnick.

 

“Alright, alright!” Johanna calls for everyone’s attention. “The rules are, first to flinch loses. You are allowed to touch, tease, otherwise grope and—“

 

Johanna stops talking as Finnick peels off his shirt and Madge and Annie break into catcalls while he swings it over his head and launches it towards Annie. She catches it and blows Finnick a kiss. Peeta hangs his head and peeks at Katniss from under his lashes. She swallows but gives him what she hopes is an encouraging nod.

 

“Clothing removal optional,” Johanna says brightly, wiggling to settle herself more firmly in her chair, holding Gale’s watch in front of her face. “Gale lasted four minutes and 56 seconds. You may begin… _ now _ .”

 

The watch beeps and the boys face each other, several feet apart, and dread starts to pump through Katniss’ veins. Peeta has his hands shoved in his pockets, his arm muscles flexed and tense. She clasps her hands together and silently sends him hopeful vibes. Madge and Johanna talk quietly and Gale is shaking his head, throwing Katniss infuriatingly arrogant looks.

 

Finnick steps closer to Peeta and says something. Then, Peeta’s lips twitch in a smile and even from here, Katniss feels like she’s melting. God, she loves his smile. He pulls his hands from his pockets and slowly, teasingly, pulls his own shirt off.

 

Johanna whistles and Katniss’ cheeks burn. It’s not like the group hasn’t seen Peeta shirtless before. They went swimming earlier today, after all. Light from the campfire plays over the contours of both masculine chests, and Madge fans herself.

 

“Almost enough to make a girl go straight. Almost,” she says suggestively and Annie laughs lightly.

 

Yep, Katniss decides this was a horrible idea. Finnick reaches up, but before he can get there, Peeta tweaks Finn’s nipple first. Finnick jumps and laughs, says something very quietly to Peeta, which earns him one blue eyed wink.

 

A new feeling begins to spread through Katniss. Some strange mix of satisfaction as Gale begins to grumble and jealousy because of the look Peeta’s giving Finnick right now. She has to remind herself that it’s just a game. One that she shoved Peeta into against his will. Over twenty bucks.

 

Now she’s feeling ashamed.

 

Johanna periodically shows Katniss the watch as the two boys talk quietly and occasionally laugh. They look like they’re flirting and it is one of the most bizarrely hot things Katniss has ever witnessed. A brush of knuckle here, a nervous foot shuffle there. They draw closer and Peeta’s smile hasn’t wavered once yet. Whereas Gale met Finnick’s advances with anything from indifference to hostility, Peeta plays right along with the flirtations.

 

When they’re only about six inches apart, Finnick drops his shorts and the whooping starts anew.

 

“Game over,” Annie says happily. “Nothing beats Finnick Odair in his underwear.”

Keeping her eyes glued to Peeta, she’s not sure how she feels about this. She hasn’t even seen Peeta in nothing but his underwear yet. They’ve kissed, and made out a little, but that’s about as far as they’ve gone so far because she’s…

 

“Oh god,” she groans and covers her face because this is all her fault as Peeta undoes his own shorts and moves to drop them. She squeezes her eyes shut as Madge and Annie catcall appreciatively.

 

“This is getting out of hand,” Gale mumbles. “I really don’t wanna see any dick tonight.”

 

“That’s why you lost,” Madge tells him.

 

“Well shit, Brainless,” Johanna whispers beside her and Katniss peeks through her fingers and gasps. Finnick is insanely attractive, she’s never denied that. He’s just never done anything for her, but Peeta…

 

Warmth unfurls in her belly as she takes in his appearance through her fingers. He’s standing in nothing but his green boxer briefs and his smile. His hair is windblown from their day outdoors and he’s blushing adorably. The sand that clings to his bare feet and calves just adds to the sensual image. She can’t stop her gaze from dipping to the slight bulge in what little fabric covers him and she has to swallow thickly before she can say anything to Johanna.

 

“How much time has passed?”

 

Johanna holds the watch up for Katniss to see, prompting Katniss to finally drop her hands from her face.

 

“Little over four minutes. Based on the odds and what people bet, if he beats Gale’s time but not the game, you break even,” she says with an almost understanding smirk.

 

Nodding, Katniss looks back up in time to see Finnick grope Peeta’s crotch. “Low move, Odair!” she shouts, but Peeta smiles widely at whatever Finnick is saying and shakes his head. Finnick removes his hand, moving it instead to caress over Peeta’s exposed skin.

 

“Why is this so hot?” Madge asks and Gale makes a face at her.

 

“Hey, what time are they at, Jo?” Annie asks and takes a sip of her drink.

 

“Five minutes, eight seconds,” Johanna announces then turns to whisper to Katniss. “Even money, Brainless.”

 

Katniss is seriously thinking about stepping in and calling the game when Finnick’s wandering hand cups Peeta’s neck and then Finnick’s lips are on Peeta’s. Her jaw drops and she’s not sure what she’s feeling. Jealousy? Anger? Indignation? Finnick is kissing her boyfriend. Finnick is  _ kissing  _ Peeta.

 

He pulls back and smiles. For the most part, Peeta’s been playing the defense, if more flirtatiously so than Gale did; he’s just been responding to Finnick’s actions. So Katniss has no idea what to expect next.

 

“Katniss,” Peeta calls out, eyes still on Finnick, but a smirk now on his face. “I think I might be a little gay.”

 

“Don’t worry, love,” Finnick says. “That’ll wear off in a few days.”

 

That’s it. Katniss stands to end the game when Peeta grabs Finnick, one hand tangled in his copper hair, the other gripping his ass, pulling their bodies flush together. She sits heavily back down as Peeta starts the kiss and her mouth goes dry watching it. She barely registers Johanna laughing beside her, the sound hollow and tinny under whatever layer of shock her boyfriend has just cast her into.

 

What. The. Fuck.

 

Suddenly, Finnick shoves away and then starts laughing uncontrollably.

 

“You win, dude,” he manages between guffaws, waving off Annie’s loud protests.

 

Peeta gathers his clothes from the sand, his face burning red. Holding his clothes in front of himself, he goes straight to the cooler and grabs two beers, tossing one to Finnick before making his way back towards Katniss. While he pulls his clothes back on and taunts Gale a little, Johanna gathers and counts the money out into three piles, handing two of them to Katniss and pocketing the rest for herself.

 

“You bet on Peeta?” Katniss whispers. Johanna and Finnick have been friends for ages. As long as Katniss and Gale have been friends, so it makes no sense to Katniss that Johanna would bet against Finnick. Plus, she’s so confused as to how she feels about the whole thing, she’s desperate to talk about something, anything other than this strange mixture of feelings that are beginning to make her head reel.

 

“Damn straight I did,” Johanna says happily. “Anyone can see just by the way Peeta looks at you, Katniss. That guy would do anything for you. Anything. To include shoving his tongue down Finnick’s throat.”

 

Katniss looks up at Peeta as he slides back onto the lounge chair with her, his face still red, and his eyes not quite meeting hers. She turns into him and they settle back onto the chair, his free arm wrapped around her as he drinks from his beer. As the night wears on, punctuated with laughter, song, and friendly talk, he relaxes beneath her and the group starts to drift off in pairs.

 

Closing her eyes, Katniss pulls up the mental image of Peeta, nearly naked and glowing in the firelight. Suddenly she’s very warm, and a little damp between the legs. Also eager to discover what Peeta looks like without the underwear. She shivers at the thought and Peeta stretches to grab a blanket, draping it over them. Really, she doesn’t need it, but she doesn’t tell Peeta that because she’s just now noticing that they’re the only two left around the fire.

 

“Hey, I’m uh, sorry about what happened earlier,” Peeta says quietly. “I guess we got a little out of hand, and I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. Sorry if I did.”

 

Katniss sits up and looks at him, his blue eyes glowing in the firelight. She remembers what Johanna said and a warm, content feeling fills her. She shakes her head and stretches out to kiss him, a soft brush of lips.

 

“No, I pretty much forced you into that. I mean I was a little uncomfortable but that was more because…I mean it was…” she trails off fumbling with her words and unsure how to explain the strange mixture of arousal, embarrassment, and jealousy she felt watching Peeta kiss Finnick.

 

“Wait. You weren’t turned on by all that, were you?” Peeta asks quietly.

 

Her entire body feels like it’s about to combust. “Well, you were basically naked and…”

 

Peeta tips her chin up to look at him and then slowly lowers his mouth to hers. She sighs into his mouth, enjoying the feel of his lips on hers, the burning heat that suffuses her body mellowing to a delicious tingle and a desire for more. She shifts to straddle him, wrapping the blanket around them to hide them from view. She doesn’t want to provide anyone with entertainment, just to kiss Peeta. His hands rest lightly on her back, rubbing soothingly over the expanse. The kiss stretches on into the night with quiet moans and whimpering sighs, fingers clutched in shirts and hair, tangled tongues and restless limbs. When Katniss finally pulls away, she smiles at the look Peeta is giving her, and somehow knows exactly what Johanna had meant.

 

“Peeta,” she whispers.

 

“Mmhmmm?” he says sleepily.

 

“I’m really glad we have our own tent.”

 

“Why’s that, Katniss?” he asks, his hand caressing over her leg, raising gooseflesh in its wake.

 

“I don’t want an audience while I beat Finnick’s time with you.”

 

Peeta tilts his head, examining her face. Then he’s on his feet, sweeping her up into his arms and carrying her, laughing, towards their tent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot the other source of inspiration for this drabble ... http://jessiflorus.tumblr.com/post/85069632434/not-pictured-peeta-immediately-runs-back-to-the


	19. An Unplanned First Date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Modern AU, Inspired by the lovely lady whose pogue date wouldn’t kiss her and the stranger who rose to the occasion. 2,834 Words. Written May 2015. WARNINGS: RATED T, for totally cheesy...and some kissing.

The crowd yells and Peeta glances over his shoulder at the field momentarily, joining the cheering while Heyward slides into second a moment before the catcher’s throw reaches the baseman. Then he turns back and finishes the climb to row 15. At least he’s only missed half of the first inning. Confusion wrinkles his brow as he reaches the row indicated on his ticket and his friends wave, greeting him with cheerful shouts, Finnick with a sheepish look on his face.

“Sorry, man. This was the only way I could get us all in the same section,” he admits with a shrug. 

Peeta’s eye sweep over his friends packed in a row in the midst of the sold out crowd then across the aisle to the lone empty seat separated from his friends by the steep stairs and the metal handrail running up its center. He suppresses a sigh and lowers his body into the vacant seat. So much for a relaxing evening catching up with his friends at the ballpark. Just before his rear hits the plastic seat, the woman assigned to the spot next to him glances over and Peeta nearly drops his beer.

He’s mesmerized by the almost bored and annoyed expression swirling in her smoky gray eyes. He’s never seen eyes that color before. Her skin is fresh, a deep olive tone, and her dusky lips instantly send his thoughts straight to stolen kisses in dark corners. She is stunning. Radiant. 

The girl toys with her dark braid as she appraises him and he gives her a friendly smile before putting his drink firmly in the cup holder. Without responding to his smile, she returns her focus to the game.

Great. This’ll be a great night, he thinks. Work has been hell and he just wants to unwind with his friends here tonight. Instead, he’ll be sitting silently next to this strange yet beautiful girl and…his eyes cut to the side and he sees a dark haired man seated to her right, scrolling through his phone...her boyfriend?

“So you said you travel a lot for your job?” the girl asks when the players change up sides at the inning break. Peeta sips his beer and tries, unsuccessfully, not to eavesdrop. He likes her voice. It has a lyrical, almost musical quality and he wonders what she sounds like when she sings. He’d be willing to bet her singing is as lovely as the rest of her.

“Yeah,” the guy says without expanding.

“Where was your favorite place you’ve been?” she asks after a few awkward beats of silence.  _ Shit, _ Peeta thinks.  _ Is this a first date he’s sitting next to?  _ He looks around the stadium, trying to find something interesting to keep his attention diverted from them.

“Maybe Colorado,” the guy says.

“Oh that’s nice,” the woman answers. “I’ve never been, but I’ll bet the mountains are gorgeous in person.”

The guy gives a half-assed grunting reply and Peeta can’t help but peek at them again. They’re not even looking at each other. She’s still toying with her braid and leans over to peer down at the guy now launching t-shirts into the crowd from the top of the dugout while her date taps on his phone screen.

_ What the hell is wrong with this douche? _ Peeta wonders. If it had been him on a date with this girl, he’d be riveted, too busy trying to cajole a laugh from her lips and learn every minute detail about her to keep track of what inning it was, let alone waste his time with his phone.

“Do you have any siblings?” the girl asks, and the guy gives her a one word negative answer. “I have a little sister. Prim, or actually it’s Primrose. She’s starting medical school in the fall.”

Peeta’s lips tick at the obvious ribbon of pride in the girl’s voice. She’s throwing this dude a softball and he’s not even swinging. Moron.

The game progresses, with the girl making several attempts to draw the guy into conversation before she finally just seems to give up around the top of the fourth inning, leaning back in her seat with her eyes fixed on the game, twirling the end of her braid in her fingers.

When Carpenter hits a double in the bottom of the fifth, Peeta and the girl both leap to their feet at the same time to cheer, along with the rest of the crowd. In the excitement, he turns to her with a broad smile on his face. She’s done the same, but her smile quickly fades until Peeta tentatively holds his hand up. Her smile flickers back over her lips as she gives him a high five and then settles back in her chair.

Content with the brief moment of bonding with a stranger at a sporting event, especially one as beautiful as her, he finishes his beer, smiling into the cheap plastic cup and savoring the barely chilled remains of the foamy drink.

A short time later, her date excuses himself, and Peeta stands to let him pass before dropping heavily back into his seat. The guy has his phone to his ear before he’s all the way down the stairs and Peeta scoffs. Idiot.

Beside him, the girl shifts in her seat and Peeta fights the urge to turn and badger her with the hundreds of questions rolling around in his brain. After a few minutes of charged silence, the girl speaks, eyes still directed at the field.

“I told my co-worker, Clove, that I wasn’t good on blind dates,” she says softly, her voice annoyed. Taking the opening, Peeta shifts his torso so he is half facing her, his forearms resting on his knees. “I’m just not very good at small talk.”

“I really don’t think that you’re the problem,” Peeta says before his brain can stop him and her eyes cut over to him, flashing in something that he wants to know the name for.  _ What’s she thinking right now? _

“She’s  _ not _ the problem,” comes a female voice thick with sarcasm from behind them. Peeta and the girl with gray eyes both twist to take in the girl with the sleeves ripped off her Cardinal’s t-shirt, revealing toned arms, and spiky brown hair streaked in red. The girl doesn’t even spare them a glance as she keeps speaking. “I had more chemistry with my fifth grade class goldfish, Mr. Bubbles.”

Facing the gray-eyed girl once more, Peeta points back at the girl behind them. “Confirmation. If we polled the section, I’d bet we could get a consensus on the matter.”

“Oh please don’t do that,” she says as a flush creeps over her cheeks.

“For the record,” Peeta changes topics so she’s not embarrassed, “I grew up in Colorado. And the mountains are stunning. Especially right at sunset, when the sky streaks with soft orange that looks like fingertips, just reaching over the peaks, trying to hold onto the last bits of the day.”

As he talks, the girl begins to smile, sending his heart speeding. Gorgeous. “I’ve always wanted to backpack in the Rockies.”

“It’s intense, but amazing,” Peeta takes the leap. If that ass-hat won’t talk to her, then Peeta will. “Do you hike a lot?”

“Whenever I can,” she says with a light chuckle. “I grew up in the Appalachians, so the mountains and the woods are in my blood.”

“Then you definitely need to take on the Rockies, at least once. When you do, there’s this trail that starts in Miner Bluffs and cuts through Merchant Row, tiny little Podunk towns, but totally worth the stop. There’s a bakery on Main Street, original, I know,” he says when her eyebrow quirks up at his words. “Mellark’s. My grandparents started the place and my parents still run it, but I guarantee, you won’t find a better apple pie anywhere. You have to try the cheese buns, too. Melt in your mouth goodness.”

“That does sound amazing,” she says with a tiny wrinkle of her nose and a smile. “But can you really guarantee the best apple pie  _ anywhere _ ?”

The corner of Peeta’s mouth lifts at the playful skepticism in her voice. “Okay, maybe just west of the Mississippi.”

She laughs, a throaty and musical sound that has him grinning like an idiot.

“What about you? You have a special trail in your mountains?”

“Well there’s one that my father used to take me on all the time. I don’t get home to hike it much anymore what with my jobs and trying to pay for my sister’s tuition.”

“Wow, that’s…incredible that you do that for her. Prim, right?” he asks and she nods. “So medical school. Has she decided on a specialty or…?”

“No,” Katniss says. “It’s a little early for that, but she does know she eventually wants to be a part of Doctors Without Borders.”

“She sounds like a great person,” Peeta says and Katniss smiles softly.

“She really is,” she murmurs and they spend a few minutes swapping stories about their respective siblings. She gushes about her sister and then laughs at his stories about what knuckleheads his two brothers are. Then he shifts the conversation back to her, curious about so much more now that he’s got her talking.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why’d you agree to a blind date if they make you uncomfortable?”

“Well,” she says, slumping in her chair a little bit. “Baseball tickets are expensive.”

“Makes sense,” Peeta says with a serious look. “The bats have been on fire so far this season.”

“Plus, we’re leading the division, and I rarely get to come to a game with my work schedule.”

Easy opening. Peeta’s smile deepens. “Sooooo…what do you do for a living?” he says in a mock serious voice and she laughs again. He really likes hearing her laugh.

“Just an awful cubicle job with a company that builds bridges. My cousin is a structural engineer and got me the job out of high school so I could do community college and save up for Prim. It pays the bills. What about you?”

“Same kind of thing, soul sucking cubicle job for an advertising agency. Really, it was always my dream to use my mad art skills to get people to buy stuff they don’t need.” She chuckles again. “So if you dislike your job, then what do you love to do?”

“The hiking thing, and actually, I’m really big into archery. I have a summer job at a couple camps teaching that and leading hikes sometimes on weekends. My kids this year are so awesome. I have to be up early tomorrow for them so this game was a real indulgence for me.”

His eyebrows lift and a strange thrill runs through him at the mental image of this girl pulling back an arrow, intently focused on her target. “That’s really cool. About the kids and archery, not the fact that your date is wasting your indulgence with Siri or whatever he’s doing.”

The crowd around them erupts and they both look down in time to watch the players run the bases. What inning is it? And where’d her date disappear to?

“Ummm…can I ask you a question…uh…”

“Peeta,” he provides as he turns back to her. “My name is Peeta.”

“Okay, Peeta,” she tests out his name. “What would you have done if you were…” she trails off and vaguely gestures around them.

“If I’d been set up on a blind date with you?” he asks and her cheeks flush, her nose wrinkles adorably and she nods.

“Well for starters, my phone wouldn’t have been anywhere near my hands,” he holds up his hands for her to see how empty they are and then tucks them back in his lap, a little embarrassed. His brothers always picked on him for having huge bear claws for hands, and based on the odd flash in Katniss’ eyes, she’s probably thinking the same thing. Now he’s just feeling awkward.

“Thanks,” she says. “I think I’ve talked more to you in the last half inning than I have with Marvel for the entire game.”

“Speaking of which,” Peeta says ruefully as he catches sight of her date making his way back up the stairs. Once more, Peeta stands to let him by. The guy does at least apologize for abandoning his date for so long, and they settle into an awkward silence.

Shifting nervously, Peeta tries not to take up too much space in the cramped bleachers, but his knee still brushes hers and he has to bite back all the millions of little questions he still wants to ask. She’s on a date. With someone else. And he just spent half an inning  _ flirting _ with her. He’s starting to feel guilty and steals a glance to his right, catches her looking at him, the end of her braid once more twisted around her fingers. Her gaze flits away as soon as their eyes meet. Okay, maybe he’s not such a sleaze…

The cheesy music keys up, drawing Peeta’s attention to the jumbo screen across the stadium, peppered with tacky red lipstick marks. He watches silently as couples appear on screen, hesitating for a moment before they realize that they’re expected to kiss and then sharing a smooch. When an elderly couple crops up on screen, the man smiles and turns to press a soft kiss to his wife’s smiling lips.

“How sweet,” the girl beside him murmurs. “It’s so cheesy, but I kinda like this part of the game.”

A few more couples share kisses and then suddenly, it’s the girl beside him and her date, head still bent over his phone. The camera is angled so Peeta’s not onscreen. She waits the requisite second before gasping and pointing. “Look!”

But her date does nothing but hum and ask for “just a sec.” Peeta has to suppress a groan as the girl settles back in her chair, fixing the look of boredom back on her face while the crowd starts to heckle, wanting a kiss. Clearing his throat, Peeta turns towards her. 

“Would you like to…uh…I mean, that is…” He trails off when she looks over at him and his cheeks are flaming and all he can do is point to the screen, the words sticking in his throat.

_ Kiss  _ me.

Her eyes flick up to the screen, which is still focused on her, based on the heckling, and then back to him. She shrugs. “Okay.”

Not wasting a second, Peeta leans over to cup the side of her neck with his left hand, drawing her close and placing his lips to hers. His thumb caresses along her jaw and she sighs a little, her eyes fluttering shut. Peeta’s stomach clenches at the sight. He loves watching that little moment when a woman loses herself in kiss. Closing his own eyes, Peeta lets himself go too, moving his mouth in concert with hers, his right hand gripping his thigh because he’s not sure if she’ll allow too much more intimacy. He is engulfed in warmth and softness, the desire to taste every crevice of her mouth and map every inch of skin.

There’s a roaring in his ears and he isn’t sure if it’s the noise of the crowd or the pounding of his own blood through his veins. Her hand covers his, holding it in place on her neck. Peeta tugs gently on her jaw and her lips open just enough for him to slide his tongue over her bottom lip as he sucks it into his mouth. She inhales sharply and releases her breath in a soft but ragged groan, the hot exhale tripping over his cheek.

“Dude, what the fuck?!” Someone shouts and Peeta pulls back away from the girl, trying to catch his breath.

A second later, she’s turned away from him, hissing at her date. “Well it’s not like you were gonna do it.”

“Whatever, I don’t need this headache,” her date says and hastily clambers over them to exit the seats.

Peeta stares at the field, gripping the arms of his seat, heart thudding against his ribs, and still trying to catch his breath.

“Wow,” he finally manages. “That was intense.”

“Yeah,” she says in a breathy voice and Peeta turns to take in her face. Her lips are swollen and her eyes are bright, gleaming in happiness and something else. 

“So what’s your name? Do you come here often?” he squeaks and she laughs, covering her mouth in a vain attempt to contain her mirth.

“Katniss,” she tells him. “I’m Katniss.” A few minutes later, they’re once more engrossed in their conversation, periodically checking on the game when the noise of the crowd intrudes.

And the only time Peeta takes his phone out of his pocket is when people are streaming from the stands around them and he hands it to Katniss to program her number into his contacts. 


	20. The Height of Romance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Modern AU, Inspired by a tumblr post/text conversation and the ever present question… Imagine your OTP… Katniss is not very smooth at wooing over text and Peeta doesn’t mind so much. 1,720 Words. Written May 2016. WARNINGS: RATED T for mild language and implied sexual content

This isn't how Peeta planned or expected their anniversary to go. Not at all. He tried everything he could think of to get out of working today, short of faking an illness, but with their monthly print deadline just around the corner, his options were limited to begin with. Fake illness sounds promising right now.

 

He taps his foot impatiently, hidden beneath the table so his boss can't see how eager he is for this meeting to be over. His hands clutch his phone, waiting for the texts and calls from his fiancée to start pouring in, asking where he is. Why he’s not home yet. His phone vibrated once, about fifteen minutes ago, and he’s fairly confident it was her. 

 

Checking the time again, Peeta mentally cringes and starts to rearrange the meal. The time is already approaching six. The dinner he planned to cook for her will be basically impossible now. He'll have to scrap the lamb and roast chicken instead. Maybe sauté the vegetables...if he's got a few minutes, he could always swing by his Dad's bakery on the way home to pick up a dessert instead of making it from scratch himself. Although he hates to do that. Katniss likes to tease him that it's prowess with the baked goods that made her fall for him. The last thing he wants to do on the 5th anniversary of their first date, the last one they’ll have before they’re married, is skimp on the baking.

 

“Are we boring you, Mr. Mellark?” The cold voice of his boss intrudes on Peeta's thoughts. He blinks and shakes his head.

 

“No sir,” he says and quickly glances at the notes his neighbor has scrawled on a legal pad. “I was wondering if Cato is the best choice to handle a delicate human interest piece such as this. He tends to be brash and hard nosed in his interviews and writing style, which is great if you're talking politics or sports, but not as much when dealing with wounded veterans and their families.”

 

“Hmmmm,” Mr Snow hums, twirling his pen as he pins Peet to his chair with a cold glare just as Peeta's phone vibrates in his grip. He knows, however that this is the worst time to look away from his boss. Snow is waiting for him to make a mistake, to reveal that he was occupied elsewhere with a telltale sign of guilt. Such as looking down. Or flushing skin. So he maintains the unnerving eye contact with his boss until Snow sits up straight and focuses on the editor for the humanities section.

 

“You may have a point, Mr Mellark,” Snow sneers begrudgingly and Peeta's shoulders relax. “Assign Rue Demmings to the story instead, and if Cato gives you trouble, throw him a few pieces on the upcoming congressional elections. That should placate his lust for an exciting story.”

 

“Nice diversion,” his neighbor whispers with a kind smile in her eyes.

 

“Thanks, Mags,” Peeta whispers back.

 

Snow doesn’t notice the exchange since he’s busy waving off someone's protest about the elections not being until November, while Peeta's phone vibrates again and he risks stealing a look. Another message from Katniss. His nerves ratchet back up as the meeting continues, and when Snow finally adjourns, releasing them for the evening, Peeta basically sprints from the room, throwing an apology to his fellow junior editors over his shoulder when he's grabbed his bag and heads for the door.

 

“Someone's pants are on fire,” Johanna says loudly as he walks past her cubicle. He gives her a side glance and she grins at him. “Don't piss Brainless off before you actually get her down the aisle, huh?”

 

He shakes his head as he strides past, ignoring her cackle in favor of speed. Katniss’ old roommate knows exactly why he's in a hurry. A hungry Katniss is an unhappy Katniss. 

 

It's not until he's in the elevator, headed down that he finally risks looking at the messages from her.

 

_ Just got off work. Headed home for my surprise! _

 

He looks at his watch and sighs. He never should have told her that he had a big night planned for them. Now she's got her expectations up. Or maybe he's just projecting. He checks the second message.

 

_ At home...where are you? _

 

As Peeta hurries towards the subway, he haltingly types out an explanation. It sounds like a string of excuses about work and his boss being an unreasonable dictator. Promises to make it up to her, somehow, a detailed plan of how he can still manage the dinner for tonight. Almost the instant he hits send, another message comes in from Katniss.

 

_ I just looked in the fridge. Is all that for us? You really went overboard this year. _

 

Peeta winces and considers his reply while he rides the escalator down into the subway tunnels. Katniss grew up poor; her family caught in a near constant choice between rent, electric bill, or grocery bill. Which one gets paid this month? As a result, she’s thrifty to a fault, and nothing irks her more than the waste of food.

 

_ Peeta, stop obsessing. I’ll be fine if you can’t make the dinner tonight. We’ll do it tomorrow. Just come home. _

 

His mother’s voice pipes up in his head, insisting Katniss is just saying that to be nice and really, he better make the dinner or it will signal the end of their relationship, since there’s not much he has to offer as a boyfriend, let alone a husband. Peeta closes his eyes and focuses in on the squealing sounds of the trains while he waits on the platform, using them to drown out his mother’s diatribes, replacing her harsh words with the soft sounds of Katniss whispering to him at night as they lay on their sides, facing one another in their bed, talking of whatever meaders into their thoughts in the moment. By the time his train stops and the doors open, he feels slightly more confident and answers her once he’s boarded and the train is moving.

 

**_Let me make it up to you. Massage, bubble bath, whatever your heart wants._ **

 

She’s right, they can always order takeout for dinner tonight, and since tomorrow is Saturday, he can spend the whole day pampering her and then preparing the elaborate meal he had planned, including the dessert. His phone vibrates with her response.

 

_ I wanna fuck you. _

 

He stares at the response and nearly laughs. She must be insanely aroused to say something so blatant, especially over text. Katniss is nothing if not reserved about her emotions, although when she does finally release them, it’s usually in an overwhelming tidal wave. Beneath that cool exterior, she’s a very passionate woman. He loves that about her, but the reserved part of her means that they never talk feelings, let alone sex, over the phone or by text, perhaps because she’s paranoid someone will overhear or read their words. Such conversations are reserved for the privacy of their own home. When they are in their home, however, she usually steals his breath away with the force of each emotion she displays.

 

Love. Tenderness. Pride. Joy. Anger. Indignation. Vulnerability. An incredible sense of justice and a powerful protective instinct. And sensuality.

 

Still, it’s their anniversary. He can’t resist messing with her. Just a little. To see if he can tease more of this side of her into the light.

 

**_Can you be any more romantic?_ **

 

She knows him well enough that she’ll be able to hear the incredulity and sarcasm in his words. It only takes a few seconds for her to respond. The gray text bubble comes back framed in pastel flowers.

 

*** _ I wanna fuck you*** _

 

Now he does laugh, drawing the attention of a few other people on the train.

 

**_I feel so loved_ **

 

_ Hey, I got you flowers and everything. Are you almost home? _

 

**_Getting of the train right now.  Do I at least get foreplay, ya hopeless romantic?_ **

 

He answers as the train screeches to a halt and he disembarks with half a dozen other people. Cutting through the crowd as swiftly as possible, he tries not to think about what exactly she’s got in mind. Peeta’s made it out of the subway and onto the street when his phone vibrates again. He only needs to walk three blocks to reach their apartment building, but he checks the message anyway.

 

_ Not if you don’t get here soon. You know what it does to me when you cook for me. _

 

He knows exactly what it does to her. Katniss savors food with each sense and every last fiber of her being. She turns eating into a sensual experience. Peeta already enjoyed baking and cooking when he met her, but as soon as he discovered how food turned her on, he came to view cooking for her as a sort of quest or challenge. He loves being able to surprise her or overwhelm her palate and then both of them get to enjoy the secondary effect his cooking has on Katniss. For her, food is foreplay. Apparently so is the mere possibility of Peeta cooking for her.

 

Screw dinner. Takeout it is.

 

He jogs the last two blocks home and up the four flights of stairs, too impatient to wait on the rickety old elevator. When he reaches his and Katniss’ door, he takes a moment to catch his breath and repair his appearance. As he’s digging his keys out from his pocket, the lady who lives across the way walks up to her own door and watches him a moment, blinking, her face bewildered.

 

“Wiress, ma’am,” he greets her with a weak wave. He probably looks like a mess still. Wiress gives him a strange smile before she enters her own apartment and Peeta finally unlocks his door, calling a final salutation to her. “Have a nice evening.”

 

Wiress’s door shuts and his swings open with his keys still caught in the lock. One olive hand reaches out to grasp his tie.

 

“I was about to start without you,” she says accusingly. He smiles innocently at her. Then he willingly lets her pull him inside by his tie and yanks his keys free just before she slams the door behind them.


	21. Don't Tempt Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Modern AU, Co-workers Everlark inspired by a dialogue and situation pairing, Co-workers/Don’t tempt me. 3,467 Words. Written May 2016. WARNINGS: RATED T, no other warnings.

Her pen tap-tap-taps on her desk and Katniss uses one finger to shove her glasses up her nose before squinting at the screen. Something’s still off on the wording for this press release. She tilts her head and mouths the words, trying out how they feel before whispering them to test how they sound, just loud enough so only she can hear over the din of the office.

 

“Well, well, well! It’s a big, big, big day!” The voice of her boss trills, prompting Katniss to roll her eyes. Everything is a production with that woman. Effie totters into her sight and pauses on the threshold of the vacant cubicle just on the other side of the half wall in front of hers. A young man about Katniss’ age follows her and stops when she does, adjusting the messenger bag slung over his shoulder.

 

This must be the new guy they just hired. Fan-fucking-tastic. Katniss drops her head to focus back on her work, not in the mood to make small talk. Besides, she liked having that cubicle vacant. It meant she had a tiny bit more privacy and no one felt the urge to make needless conversation with her.

 

“This will be your desk, Peeta,” Effie says, putting a powerful emphasis on the first syllable of the guy’s name. It makes his name sound like a scold. As though Effie just caught him stealing someone else’s lunch from the fridge in the break room instead of her merely showing him around. “Work day starts at eight, and punctuality is vital to professionalism.”

 

“Yes, ma’am,” he says and Katniss’ eyes flick up as his bag lands dully on his desk. For just a second, their eyes meet before Katniss tears hers away and gives up on working, instead eavesdropping as Effie finishes her welcoming spiel, and stealing covert glances at Peeta.

 

He’s medium height, stocky build, looks like he could throw her across the room if he wanted to, but there’s a softness in his smile and in the lines that form around his blue eyes that speaks of kindness.

 

“Well!” Effie exclaims as she winds down. “If you’re all set up, I’ll leave you to work! Ta-ta!”

 

Effie prances away and Katniss deletes a few words in the release, replacing them with something less...effusive. It’s a serious book and gushing over it probably isn’t the best course of action.

 

“I’m not sure if I should be impressed by her efficiency and determination or terrified by it,” a warm voice drifts up over the wall and Katniss snorts. She looks up in time to see the new hiree drape an arm over the wall between their cubicles and extend his right hand towards her, his smile open and inviting. “I’m Peeta Mellark, new guy.”

 

Katniss eyes his hand distrustfully. In her experience, anyone this friendly is either faking it or wants something from you, but Peeta doesn’t back down, so she puts her hand in his, intending to keep the contact brief. But Peeta’s hand envelopes hers, warm and firm as they shake. She’s powerless to stop the tiny smile that curls her lips upwards.

 

“Katniss Everdeen. Resident grouch,” she says as she returns the shake. “I can’t help but admire Effie  _ most _ of the time. Unless she’s wearing one of her orange wigs.”

 

Peeta smiles mischievously. “You got something against the color orange?”

 

“No,” she says, surprised at herself for being so open with this stranger. “Orange is a fine color. Great for pumpkins, warning signs, construction vests, and caution cones...not hair.”

 

His laugh bounces through the office and Katniss feels her cheeks warming. It’s a pleasant sound. Maybe working with this guy won’t be too bad.

 

************

 

“You’re doing it again,” Peeta’s voice rises up over the wall between them, although he’s still seated. She can hear the steady clicking sounds that mean he’s pounding away at the keyboard.

 

“Doing what?” she snaps.

 

“Growling under your breath,” he says and with two more loud keystrokes, he stands and leans on the wall to look down at her, concern written on his face. “You do that when you’re frustrated. Wanna talk?”

 

“No,” she says, studiously avoiding his gaze. Katniss has no desire to talk to Peeta about anything. He’s sweet and funny, easy to work with, but Katniss has no desire to push their relationship beyond that of two people who work together.

 

“If you get it out now, you’ll be able to focus better,” Peeta says and Katniss rolls her eyes.

 

“What are you, my shrink?”

 

“Nah,” he says. “Come on. We’ll go see my therapist.”

 

“Your therapist?” she asks as Peeta walks around the block of cubes to stand in the opening to hers waiting expectantly.

 

“I’m sure you heard of Dr. Coffee.”

 

“I can’t stand coffee. It’s too bitter,” she says, crossing her arms in defiance. She half expects him to crack a joke about her already being bitter enough, but instead, he shrugs.

 

“That’s fine, I usually try to schedule with Dr. Tea anyways. Fewer side-effects, no post-session crash two hours later.”

 

She smiles and shakes her head, but stands and walks with him to the bank of elevators. As they stand in line at the cafe on the ground floor of their building, Peeta shoves his hands in his pockets and Katniss toys with the tails of her blazer. 

 

“Okay, very important question,” he says, his face creased in concentration. She’s noticed this intense look of his when he’s focused on work, and a few times when she saw him in the atrium, sitting alone at a table with his head bent over a notebook of some kind, his hands moving furiously over the pages. She nods and braces herself for whatever he’s going to ask.

 

“How do you take your tea?” he asks.

 

“Excuse me?” she says, surprised by his question.

 

“Well we’ve been working together for a few weeks now, and I barely know anything about you,” he explains.

 

“And you start with how I take my tea?”

 

“I figure if we can share the deep stuff, then the superficial things will be no problem.” He looks so earnest that Katniss can’t help but laugh lightly. As soon as she does, a light sparks in Peeta’s eyes. He’s teasing her, she realizes. Well two can play that game.

 

“I’m afraid you’ve crossed a line,” she says.

 

“Hmmm,” he pretends to contemplate. “Should have gone with my first option.”

 

“What was that?” Katniss can’t help but ask. She’s already feeling much better, the anger over the barrage of requests from one of their writers that had flooded her e-mail this morning melting away with each laugh and smile she shares with Peeta.

 

“What’s your favorite color?” he asks.

 

“It’s green,” she answers easily and Peeta smiles broadly at her, clearly pleased that she’s now playing along. “What’s yours?”

 

“Orange,” he says and her eyebrows travel halfway up her forehead as she recalls their first conversation.

 

“You’re joking,” she insists.

 

“Not in the slightest,” he says solemnly.

 

“Your favorite color is pumpkin orange? Like Effie’s Thursday wig?”

 

“No, not like that,” he says with a smile. “Softer. Like a sunset.”

 

The laughter waiting on her lips dissipates in a puff as she imagines it. She can see it. The soft glow of the sky as the sun dips just below the edge of the earth. When the sky turns into a symphony of color, streaks of satiny orange center-stage. It’s beautiful, and she has to look away from Peeta to catch her breath over the mental image.

 

It’s their turn, so she steps up to the register and orders her chai latte. Glancing sideways, she catches Peeta smiling and ducking his head, perhaps taking note of what she ordered.

 

“Usually I make these at home and bring them in,” she explains, probably needlessly. “So much cheaper and tastes just as good.”

 

“But you were growling at your computer,” he says and orders his own tea -- Earl Grey no sugar and just a splash of milk. “Desperate times.”

 

Once their drinks are ready, they settle at a table and within a few short minutes, Katniss finds herself telling Peeta what had her upset. She even tells him about her baby sister graduating undergrad and moving across the country for med school. He listens attentively and commiserates, but doesn’t try to foist any advice on her. She likes that. A lot. She’s dated or been friends with too many guys who insist on trying to fix her problems for her when she didn’t ask them to and only wanted them to listen.

 

The conversation flows easily until they return to their desks. Refreshed, Katniss organizes Seneca Crane’s requests and sets to work dealing with that mess. When she pauses to take a mental break and send a text to Prim, it hits her that she thought of Peeta as a friend today.

 

Well, it doesn’t hurt to have a friend at work. Especially for someone taciturn and withdrawn, like her, who always has difficulty making friends. She smiles at the thought and gets back to work.

 

************

 

“They want two more weeks for editing, so that pushes the print date back,” Katniss says, clicking her pen against her teeth.

 

“Can we put a rush on the print to keep the date?”

 

“Not by that much,” Katniss says, putting the pen down to slide her pickles off her plate and onto Peeta’s while he lifts the top of her sandwich to lay his tomatoes over the lettuce on hers. “Which means we need to see if we can bump Haymitch’s appearance on the Daily Show. Bad idea to have him on the show more than a few days before it hits shelves.”

 

“What if we release the e-book in advance of the hard back? No need to print, so we can release it right around the original date, and then we don’t have to pull strings with Comedy Central,” Peeta suggests.

 

Katniss takes a bite of her sandwich and chews thoughtfully, watches as Peeta does the same.

 

“Effie will have an aneurysm,” she says when she finally swallows.

 

“Because we’re not following her precious orders of operation?” he asks with a glint in his eyes. “It’d get the job done with minimal fuss and no breaches in etiquette.”

 

“Okay,” Katniss nods and lifts her sandwich to her lips. “You get to tell her.”

 

Peeta sputters and slams a palm on the table as he chokes on his food.

 

“You’ve known her longer,” he argues once he’s recovered.

 

“She likes you better,” Katniss shoots back. Peeta opens his mouth to argue then tilts his head and quirks one eyebrow, a look of acknowledgement spreading over his face.

 

“Ass,” she says with an unwilling grin as she flings a potato chip his way. He blinks when it smacks him in the cheek and slides to the ground.

 

“You said it, not me,” he returns her grin and flings one of his own chips at her, completely missing. Her shoulders shake with quiet laughter as they finish eating, and she keeps her head bowed so he can’t see the unexpected blush blooming on her cheeks.

 

************

 

“Oh my god,” Peeta whines as he lays prone on the floor. “Tell me when the day is over.”

 

“The day’s just getting started,” Katniss says as she grips his hands and pulls. He barely budges and then flops back on the floor. “You’re going to have to help.”

 

“What’s next on the agenda?” he asks instead and she crosses her arms, smirking down at him.

 

“Trust exercises,” she says.

 

“That sounds ominous, but at least less strenuous than yoga.” Peeta covers his face and moans in pain.

 

“Get up, or I will abandon you to the tile floor,” she says.

 

“You wouldn’t,” he says and sits up on his elbows to glare at her.

 

“Don’t tempt me,” she responds and Peeta’s mouth gapes open.

 

“And here I thought I could trust you.”

 

“Your mistake,” Katniss says, but reaches back down to grasp his hands once more. This time, Peeta braces his feet on the floor and works with her to stand. He smiles and squeezes her hands before releasing them.

 

“I knew you liked me too much to leave me behind.” Katniss shrugs and gives him a sly look.

 

“I put up with you for the cheese buns,” she says and swings her braid back over her shoulder before leading the way towards the next exercise station. When she looks back, for a second, she thinks Peeta is staring at her ass, but she blinks and he’s focused on her eyes with an expression of feigned hurt.

 

Something swirls in her middle and makes her turn away abruptly.

 

************

 

“Hey,” Peeta says as he slides out his front door, quickly shutting it behind him, blocking her view of his place. Katniss fights back disappointment. She didn’t even mind it when Effie basically demanded they work over the weekend, especially not when Peeta suggested they could take work out of the office for a change.

 

Also, she’s been really curious about everything about him that has nothing to do with work. Like what color he’s painted his walls, because someone who’s almost always drawing on their lunch break is definitely the kind of person who would paint his walls, even the walls of a crummy downtown apartment. Maybe especially those walls.

 

“Hey,” she says as she recovers her composure and takes in Peeta’s dress. He’s wearing jeans and a t-shirt, much more casual than she’s used to seeing him. His feet are bare and his hair is a little messy, unstyled. “Um, so am I early?” she asks, confused by his apparent unpreparedness and jumpy mannerism.

 

“No, I was actually about to call you and see if we could maybe meet up tomorrow instead?”

 

There’s a crash and then someone screeching inside his apartment and Peeta’s face starts turning red.

 

“Is everything okay?” she asks even more curious now than she was five minutes ago.

 

“Yeah,” he explains. “Just my family showed up this morning...as a surprise I guess and…”

 

“Oh,” Katniss says, confused by the disconnect between his words and how miserable he appears. Not to mention the ruckus taking place inside his home.

 

“I should probably get back to them,” he says, hiking his thumb over his shoulder and wincing as the yelling grows in volume. “Before the neighbors lodge a complaint against me.”

 

She tries for a smile, but falls short as he tells her that he’ll call her and thanks for understanding before he vanishes back inside.

 

Standing on his threshold for a moment, Katniss listens to the yelling, a strange sadness taking hold in her heart. Peeta’s so kind to everyone in their office. Literally everyone. She thinks he knows the names of all the janitors and even what sports teams they root for. They can’t walk down the hall to the conference room without Peeta having at least ten mini-conversations with people they pass by.

 

Her heart sinks as she thinks of her own family and how, at least before her dad died, her home was always warm and comforting, the air saturated with song, laughter, and love. She knew she could count on her family for anything. Peeta’s family doesn’t appear to be like that at all.

 

************

 

“Morning,” Peeta greets without looking up at her.

 

“Morning,” she says and places a cup of tea in front of him along with a grease stained bag from a nearby bakery. Probably not as good as the ones he makes, but she pauses in front of her chair and waits for his reaction.

 

“What’s this for?” he asks softly, and before he can say anything too dramatic or over the top, she speaks once more.

 

“Sorry I didn’t know it was your birthday last week,” she says and they lock eyes over the wall.

 

“Thank you,” he says. “I mean, it’s okay. I didn’t tell anyone anyways, so there’s really no way you could have known.”

 

Not until she saw the mailman at his apartment stuffing brightly colored envelopes into Peeta’s box as she escaped, one with the words  _ Happy Birthday Peeta!  _ Scrawled over the flap of the envelope. It explained his family’s surprise visit, although no their apparent acidic nature.

 

She shrugs and tries to wave it off, but Peeta stands and walks around the cube farm, pulling her into a tight embrace.

 

“No, really,” he stresses. “Thank you.”

 

Katniss relaxes into the hug, wrapping her own arms around Peeta and savoring the warmth of his body pressed to hers. It’s only Effie’s shrill laugh across the room that jolts them apart, Peeta messing up his hair and Katniss looking anywhere but at him as her cheeks heat and her heart clenches in longing.

 

She wasn’t ready for that hug to end.

 

************

 

“My feet are on fire and I’m bored to tears,” Katniss whispers to Peeta over the noise of the party and he smiles at her, grabbing her wrist and pulling her through the crowd towards the stairwell.

 

“Come on,” he says and tugs her through a door.

 

“Now what?” she asks as they pause on the landing, concrete stairs winding up towards the roof and down to the ground in front of them.

 

“Here,” he says, turning his back to her and motioning for her to get on. “I wanna show you something.”

 

She debates for a moment, wondering how prudent this is, but Peeta’s smile is so sweet with just a hint of shyness, that she can’t resist. Taking off her heels and clutching them in one hand, she climbs onto Peeta’s back, forgetting about the book release party they’ve just abandoned as he takes the stairs upwards two at a time.

 

As he careens around a corner, she laughs and tightens her hold around his shoulders. Seven floors later, they emerge onto the roof and the wind whips through her hair, making her laugh harder as she tames it back into a braid, tying it with the elastic she always keeps on her wrist.

 

When she’s done, Peeta leads her over to the railing and they lean on it, looking out towards the city. She sighs in delight at the magnificent view, the shine of the lights reflected off the rippling water, the cacophony of colors and then the canvas of star stretched over them. She thinks of how she’s missed the wide open skies of her youth and how little time she’s spent looking skyward since she moved here for her job.

 

Without his prompting, she tells Peeta about this, and he smiles sadly at her.

 

“Why didn’t you? Look at the stars?”

 

“Buildings and light were always blocking the way,” she says. He says nothing, and somehow that feels perfect. “How’d you know about this?”

 

“Lavinia told me about it, shortly after I got here. Told me it was the perfect place to go to be alone and just vent some steam.”

 

“And you took me to the cafe,” Katniss says with a teasing lilt. Peeta laughs, one quick beat and looks down at his folded hands.

 

“Kinda hard to talk with all this wind, and I thought you’d want to talk out whatever was bugging you. And I maybe had an ulterior motive that day.”

 

“We’re talking just fine right now,” she says. And then the rest of his words sink in. “What ulterior motive?”

 

“You intrigued me, Katniss,” he tells the sky. “And I wanted to get to know you. Thought it might be a non-threatening way to get your attention.”

 

He drops his gaze to meet hers and she thinks she reads fear in the blue depths she’s come to know and love. She leans towards him halts with their noses brushing, suddenly remembering where they are and why. They work together.

 

“Katniss, I really want to kiss you right now, but I don’t know if it’s a good idea. So please don’t tempt me. Not unless you really, truly want this, too,” he whispers, the wind carrying away his words the second after she hears them.

 

“What if I do?” she asks and Peeta moves to close the distance between them.

 

His lips brush hers in a tentative touch, and tired of waiting, she surges against him, tasting the remnants of champagne on his lips as his hand tangles in her hair. Need sparks beneath her skin and she inhales sharply. The slow caress of his mouth on hers undoing whatever defenses remained so that when he pulls back, far enough to separate their lips but not their breaths, Katniss sways with longing for another kiss.

 

Her eyes flutter open to find Peeta smiling at her.

 

“Now who’s tempting who?” she asks before she kisses him again.


	22. The Most Beautiful Woman in the World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Modern AU, Peeta tells the story of how he and Katniss met, heavily influenced by a tumblr post. 1344 Words. Written June 2016. WARNINGS: Rated T for second hand embarrassment. It’s ridiculous. Just enjoy it. No triggers that I’m aware of.

At first, I was thrilled. Here was The Most Beautiful Woman in the world, moving into my apartment building. My brain literally ceased to function the instant I saw her and I promptly smiled at her. In my head, I thought myself to be quite charming, but based on the way she looked away and glared at the lit buttons of the elevator while clutching her box to her chest, I can only assume I instead came off as creepy stalker or much worse. In hindsight, I guess the smile was too effusive for complete strangers. Maybe a bit overwhelming for a newcomer. Still, as soon as my heart started beating again and my brain managed to fire a few neurons...I started coming up with cheesy metaphors to describe this woman’s beauty.

 

What did my malfunctioning brain come up with? She’s as beautiful as that moment when the setting sun paints the clouds and sky. As glorious as the babbling brook on a hot summer, her eyes reflecting the silver depths of those limpid pools. Undoubtedly the gods took a day off after she was born. “That’s it,” they said. “We can’t top this one.”

 

And some of those are similes and some don’t even make sense, which probably explains why karma decided I should fumble my way through an offer to help her move in. She told me to “Fuck off.” Well, her eyes told me to do that as the elevator stopped on my floor and I had to dive through the doors before they could shut on me, because the Most Beautiful Woman in the World had scrambled my brain enough that I completely forgot where I lived.

 

No matter, I consoled myself, confident I could find another way to win her over with my charms. Or at least get her to smile.

 

Wrong.

 

Following that day, I had the worst luck imaginable where The Most Beautiful Woman in the World was concerned. Lack of opportunity was not the problem, not by a long shot. More often than not, we found ourselves sharing an elevator. Unfortunately, each time we did, I looked like I had literally just climbed from the dumpster behind the bakery after napping there for half a decade and promptly rolling myself in the bakery’s goods for no apparent reason. Yep, that was me, spastic Trash Monster.

 

I’ll give you just a brief sampling of our many encounters.

 

For some reason, I had decided to ride my bike to work one day, because oh I don’t know, the sun was shining and it was Friday. But I had left my helmet at the bakery after work, which is stupid and dangerous, so don’t try that one out, okay kids? Also it turned out to be the hottest day on record for that year, so by the time I crawled onto the elevator, I was a sweaty pile of Swamp Thing dressed in khaki pants and a dark green polo with no discernible reason for my apparent complete lack of personal hygiene. And of course, The Most Beautiful Woman in the World had walked onto the elevator right after me. 

 

Well the smile had worked so amazingly well that this time, I decided the better course of action was to stare at my phone and not speak to anyone. Because of course, looking like you just committed a crime and evaded arrest is a much better approach. 

 

Exceptionally charming.

 

Then there was the day I spent at a ballgame with a couple friends. And spilled ketchup, mustard, AND relish all over my white shirt not minutes before I boarded the elevator in my apartment building with...that’s right. The Most Beautiful Woman in the World. Who no doubt spent the entire ride wondering what sort of freaks she lived with and whether or not they’d even managed to graduate kindergarten with the state of their clothing and all. Or rather my clothing.

 

But it only got better from there on. She witnessed me falling onto  _ AND _ off of the elevator. Nut checking myself on a bike rack. Clearly a picture of total grace and sophistication.

 

Or the time I dropped my backpack and burst the zipper then bemoaned  _ out loud _ to it. “Why do you do this to me when I told you to behave or we would be late?” Because that’s what perfectly normal adult people do when they drop their backpacks in front of The Most Beautiful Woman in the World.

 

There’s also the night she and her sister witnessed me carrying three pizza boxes with a couple or a dozen, I can’t remember the exact number, of Twix bars clenched in my teeth and informing the dorman that, No, I was not hosting a party. Unless you count a party of one.

 

At that point, I’d gotten fairly frustrated. Why had the gods decreed that I should be blessed enough to live in the same building as The Most Beautiful Woman in the World only to have every one of our meetings turn into a festival of ridiculousness designed to make me look like a complete asshat?!?! I mean, I’d like to think I’m a pretty good guy. As you can see, I clean up fairly nicely. I hope I can manage this more than one day out of the year. My friends and my customers at the bakery seem to think I’m funny. I mean, they keep coming back, so that must mean  _ something _ , right? But nope. Every time The Most Beautiful Woman in World showed up, I turned into a comedic farce.

 

So, of course, I drunkenly vent to my brother one night and guess who’s in the elevator when he drags my rank-breathed and red-eyed self home from the bar? I don’t even need to tell you, do I?

 

And of course, the next morning, when I have to peel my hungover body off the floor and attempt a shower so I can make it to work on time because even Trash Monsters have to make a living, she’s there again to witness the most phenomenal cowlick ever. Oh and I put on an old pair of pants that were ripped down the crotch and rear. So she saw my underwear and I didn’t even know her name. It was clean at least. I think.

 

The best part of this story, though, is that just when I decided to give up trying, because fate had decided that The Most Beautiful Woman in the World would only see me when I appear to be jellyfish with legs or a wad of gum left under a desk or misplaced child’s toy that has spent weeks in a swamp, and whatever everything in this world costs money and eventually everyone you love disappoints you, the gods threw me the biggest plot twist ever.

 

The Most Beautiful Woman in the World kicking the flat tires on her car and cursing like sailor while she looked like someone had dragged her through the wash cycle but used dish soap instead of detergent. Don’t try that one either, kids. It won’t turn out well.

 

Turns out, she’s a Trash Monster, too. Trust me, she’s secretly checking hockey scores on her phone under the table and dreaming of wearing her sweatpants and zero makeup while throwing popcorn and well crafted insults at the TV screen right now.

 

And every time she saw me looking like the worst version of herself, it made her smile when I wasn’t looking. Laugh when I wasn’t listening because I was too busy feeling sorry for myself. Once I got over my bruised ego, though, and stuttered through the worst possible version of asking her out on a date, well, I guess the gods decided they had punished us enough. Because eventually, The Most Beautiful Woman in the World actually agreed to marry me.

 

Shocking, I know.

 

So thank you for coming to our wedding, and not laughing too much while we embarrassed ourselves on the dancefloor. Truly, Katniss and I appreciate it. Cheers.


	23. Jealous Buttercup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Modern AU, Inspired by the prompt “I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I’m not looking.” 771 Words. Written June 2016. WARNINGS: RATED M for brief smut, oh and I was a little tipsy and trying to clear a few prompts out of my inbox when I wrote this, so keep that in mind please.

“I’ve seen the way you look at me,” Katniss hisses. “And it won’t work. You’re not getting in this bed.”

 

She picks the yellow feline up off the covers and drops it back on the floor to a chorus of hissing and plaintive mewls.

 

“No,” she insists. “I draw the line at you sharing my bed. You’re just gonna have to get used to sleeping on the floor.”

 

**TWO WEEKS LATER...**

 

“Peeta, what is moving under the covers?”

 

“Probably just Buttercup,” he says as his fingers fly over the keyboard. 

 

“Why is he in our bed?” she snaps, her hands groping under the covers to find him so she can send him on his way. That cat has always hated her, ever since the day Prim brought the mangy thing home from the shelter.

 

“He looked so forlorn. He’s probably missing Prim,” Peeta says. The sound of his owner’s name draws out a pathetic kittenesque mewl from the cat, drawing Peeta’s gaze up to the furry devil. He gives the cat an apologetic look. Which is enough to make Katniss huff and turn off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness. 

 

“I’ve got a few more paragraphs I’d like to get done tonight,” Peeta tells her.

 

Katniss ignores his teasing tone and fluffs her covers before punching her pillow. He can just type in darkness. And she can’t wait for Prim to get home from her Peace Corps tour of duty. The cat has got to go.

 

**TWO WEEKS AFTER THAT…**

 

“Like that?”

 

“Oh god, yes!” Katniss screams as Peeta thrusts into her. She grips the sheets and lifts her hips back into him as he thrusts again, tearing a desperate cry from her throat. 

 

He spent the entire day teasing her. Starting with the lascivious looks he sent her over breakfast. The lingering kiss as they left for their jobs and the gentle caress of his hand over her ass as they left their home. Texts at work. Voicemails with indecent words hissed in low tones so his coworkers wouldn’t hear. Touches at dinner that bordered on indecent and drove her half out of her mind with want until she’d ripped off his clothes and threw herself on the bed, demanding that he fuck her senseless that instant.

 

He took her seriously. They’ve been at it since.

 

He palms her ass and smacks her, making her moan in delight as his hand then soothes the sting. She’s dripping and clinging to the precipice, staring into the kaleidoscopic void of release, her limbs and pussy screaming for her to let go.

 

“Do you wanna come?” Peeta purrs, and Katniss nods frantically as he pauses to rotate his hips behind her, drawing out the exquisite torture.

 

“Uh-huh,” she gasps.

 

“Say it, Kat,” he demands.

 

“I wanna come, Peeta,” she keens as he drives into her to the melody of his grunts and her desperate wails.

 

She’s close, so close, she can taste it on the tip of her tongue around the animalistic noises she’s making.

 

There’s a strange hissing and clawing noise from the corner of the bed and then suddenly, Peeta yells. His touch and dick leaving her unsatisfied and furious at the interruption. She turns around, a demand on her lips. And she gawks in astonishment.

 

Peeta, naked and still hard, wrestles with a possessed Buttercup, who sinks his claws into Peeta’s arms and crawls over him as Peeta hurries towards the bedroom door.

 

“Ow, what the fuck’s gotten into you?” Peeta says as he ejects Buttercup from the room and closes the door, leaning back against it to examine the scratches marring his arms and shoulders. They remain like that, frozen until Katniss snorts.

 

On the other side of the door, Buttercup starts up a pathetic wail. Peeta kicks the door.

 

“Now can we keep him out of our bed?” Katniss asks, and Peeta walks back over to her, roughly pulls her, still on her knees, to the edge of the bed.

 

“I think he thought you were a cat in heat with the noises you were making,” Peeta says playfully, his fingers nimbly returning her to a state of need. “I was cutting in on his action.”

 

“Peeta,” she moans while Buttercup’s wails crescendo and he claws at their door. 

 

When they’re laying on the bed and Buttercup’s complaints have turned to soft  _ mreows _ , Peeta sighs.

“Think we can let him back in here now?” he asks.

 

“Peeta Mellark, you are too soft,” she says, poking one of the red marks marring his skin. “The cat sleeps on the couch. And we’re telling Prim he needs a girlfriend.”


	24. The Stupidest Plan Ever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Modern AU, Inspired by the prompt “This is without a doubt, the stupidest plan you’ve ever had. Of course I’m in.” 508 Words. Written June 2016. WARNINGS: RATED T+ for sexual situations, oh and I was a little tipsy and trying to clear a few prompts out of my inbox when I wrote this, so keep that in mind please.

Peeta stares at the webbed crack in the LCD screen and releases a deep puff of air. His brother is going to kill him. In a hundred different painful, lengthy ways. Death by lava. The individual removal of each of his fingernails and toenails and then the strands of his leg hair. One at a time. Or death by older brother lectures. Or endless hours covering his shifts at the bakery. He runs his hands through his hair and ignores the soft nudge to his arm. But her voice, he cannot ignore.

 

“Hey,” Katniss murmurs, biting her thumb nail. “It doesn’t look  _ that _ bad...does it?”

 

“Graham is gonna murder me and eat my eyeballs for breakfast,” Peeta answers her.

 

“Okay, what if we told him that we were moving the guidons. We had to make a sudden stop, to avoid something, and they cracked the window.”

 

“Katniss,” he moans. “The car reeks of sex. He’ll never buy that.”

 

In the darkness of the parking lot, he just catches the deepening shades on her cheeks as she blushes. He feels like such as ass. It’s not like he tried to stop her as they were driving back towards campus from their date. She’d unzipped his fucking jeans and slipped her hand inside. Grasping and rubbing him over his boxers. He’d gone hard so fast, his head had started to spin. So he did the only rational thing he could think of.

 

Pull the car over. Park and give her his full attention.

 

Despite his predicament, his dick twitches again at the memories of their reckless partial undressing as they scrambled into the backseat and only made it halfway there. Dress pushed up over hips, bodice down to reveal breasts. Jeans around thighs, shirt unbuttoned. Shoes still on feet. Her one leg over his shoulder, walls squeezing him and her elated groans as he pumped into her, unforgiving as they both strained towards release. It wasn’t until they’d both peaked and recovered from the delirium of mutual gratification that he’d noticed where her left foot was. The one that wasn’t resting on his back had shattered the LCD screen in his brother’s car. Graham’s expensive car that he had lent to Peeta specifically for this date, since Peeta didn't have a car yet. Sophomores and Freshmen aren’t allowed to have one on campus.

 

He sighs again as his brother’s demand that Peeta return the car without a scratch pounds against his temples. Glancing over at Katniss to see if she’s got any better ideas, he really hates that this is going to ruin their night together. Up until the busted screen, it had been pretty close to perfect.

 

“Drive with the windows down?” she asks tentatively. His shoulders slump, but he’s got nothing better, so he nods.

 

“This may be the stupidest plan you’ve ever had,” Peeta says and starts the engine again while Katniss fixes her hair and her dress. “But what choice do do I have?”

 

He just hopes his older brother is in a forgiving mood.


	25. Four Minute Lull

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 1950’s AU, Written for peetaisbae via everlarkbirthdaydrabbles. An unexpected pregnancy during college changes the plans Katniss and Peeta had for their lives. 3,959 Words. Written July 2016. WARNINGS: RATED T, no additional warnings.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Peeta, where are you?” Katniss futilely yells into the phone as it rings and rings. “What part of  _ I’M IN LABOR  _ don’t you understand?”

 

With a harsh growl, she slams the phone back down in its cradle and glares at her mother, daring her to say anything, violence on her mind.

 

Her mother doesn’t speak. Which is good, because Katniss isn’t in the mood to give birth in a jail cell for murdering her mother.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

It’s not the wedding he had hoped for. She knows that. They both do. No cheering family. No bower of yellow flowers or three tiered cake that he frosted himself. No honeymoon in Cancun afterwards. Not even a fancy white dress. Just the nicest green frock she could find in her closet and a dress shirt he had to borrow from his older brother because none of his fit anymore. He couldn’t even find a tie.

 

Their hands shake as they sign the papers at City Hall, and Peeta fumbles with the ring before he gets it onto her finger. She doesn’t do much better. The clerk hands their paperwork back over to them in exchange for a five dollar bill. And Katniss’ stomach sinks as she notices the now empty space in Peeta’s wallet. That was all his cash, and she has no idea how much he has in his checking account. Probably not much more than her. 

 

“Do I, um, kiss the bride?” Peeta asks, but the clerk just gives a noncommittal grunt. 

 

When he looks at her for the first time since reciting their the vows, their hands clasped with the gold band digging into her third left finger, Peeta swallows and appears uncertain what to do. Then with a bracing breath, he leans forward and presses his lips to Katniss’. She steps towards him, and finally, he releases her hands to hold her in a warm embrace. In that moment, Katniss can almost believe they’ll be okay. That the positive pregnancy test of three weeks ago was nothing more than a bad dream. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“He’ll be here, Katniss. Please try to relax,” her mother soothes, but Katniss gnashes her teeth and continues to pace. This is all his fault. He’s the one who got her knocked up. All for one stupid romantic night at the beach. 

 

She ignores the nagging reminder that she was an eager participant in the events of that night. Basically the instigator...

 

They’d talked about it, of course, getting married and starting a family, but in vague future terms. After college. And if he can’t even be here for the birth of their child, how can she expect him to be here for the rest of their lives?

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“I got us on the waitlist,” Peeta says as he sits beside her on the bench. Katniss holds a finger up to stop his words and sways. “You okay?”

 

He places a gentle hand on her arm, but she doesn’t want anyone touching her, so she shrugs him off, shaking her head just a little. That slight movement, though, is enough to throw off her carefully maintained equilibrium.

 

“No,” she says and turns away from him just in time to hurl her lunch into the nearby bush. Peeta holds her hair back with one hand, rubbing over her spine with the other. When her stomach is vacated, she continues to heave. From the corner of her eye, Katniss can see Glimmer and a few of the other vapid cheerleaders walk by in their uniforms. Covering their mouths and giggling at her predicament.

 

Screw them all.

 

When she slowly sits upright, Peeta hands her a handkerchief to wipe her mouth.

 

“Should we go see the doctor?” Peeta asks with worry in his voice.

 

“No,” Katniss tells him. “It’s just morning sickness.”

 

“But it’s not morning anymore,” Peeta says and Katniss snorts in laughter.

 

“Whoever termed it that is a moron,” Katniss tells him. “I’m nauseous all the time.”

 

“Oh. I wish you’d told me that sooner. Explains a lot,” Peeta says, draping his arm around her and pulling her closer. 

 

She leans her head on his shoulder and doesn’t even protest when he lays a hand protectively over her middle. She’s not showing yet, thank goodness. The stares from the other students are already bad enough, especially after she had to race out of Professor Heavensbee’s class the other day before she upchucked her breakfast all over the back of Cato’s head. But this is nice, getting to spend a few minutes relaxing with Peeta in the fresh air in her only free hour of the day. She has to start her shift at the diner soon.

 

“What waitlist?” Katniss asks as his earlier words finally register.

 

“For the married couple dorms,” Peeta explains.

 

“Oh. Right,” Katniss says. They’ve been married two days, and she hadn’t even thought about how they were going to move in together or where the baby would sleep. She’s a little ashamed that Peeta thought of it first. She’s going to be an awful mother.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Come relax with me, Katniss,” her mother suggests. “We still have a few hours or so. It’s your first child.”

 

“What does that have to do with anything?” she snarls, but carefully lowers herself onto the mats her mother has set out for them.

 

“Well,” her mother intones in her calmest voice. “I was in labor with you for twelve hours. With Primrose, six and a half.”

 

“That’s just unfair,” Katniss grumbles. Grudgingly, though, she copies the position her mother is in, and allows her voice to relax her a little. Just a little. Because she swears to God and everything holy, that if her husband isn’t here by the time she’s pushing, she just might maim him.

 

“Maybe,” her mother says around her humming. “But then again, if you’d gotten here in six and a half hours, your father probably would have missed your birth.”

 

Taking a deep breath, Katniss releases the air in a huff.

 

“Where was he?”

 

“Working,” her mother says, and Katniss can’t help the scathing glare she sends her mother.

 

“I work, too, you know,” Katniss says. All she gets in response is a mild hum. But she has to admit, this is much better than being tied down to a sterile hospital bed with monitors, nurses and doctors constantly prodding her and suggesting she load her body and thus her baby’s with drugs.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

At first, the sight sends her into a tailspin of rage. Peeta stretched out on a blanket in the middle of campus, reading a book. And from the way he’s got the paperback cover bent around on itself, it’s not a textbook. How does he have time to read for pleasure?

 

She’s about ready to lay into him when he looks up at her and smiles. That stupid, adorable smile that still makes her go weak in the knees. The baby kicks. And she couldn’t agree more.

 

But she’s angry. Furious.

 

“Hey,” he says and pats the blanket next to him. As she lowers herself, he sits up and holds her waist to assist her down. She grinds her teeth and barely restrains a growl at him.

 

“What are you reading?” Katniss asks innocently, preparing her speech about time management and how hard she’s been working and how he needs to step it up if they’re going to raise a child. It’s born of exhaustion and uncertainty. A healthy dose of fear and a couple lies. She knows he’s been working just as hard as her. A job as well as school. But last week she had to put back some of her groceries because they couldn’t afford everything. And they’re still on the waiting list for housing.

 

Before she can open her mouth to lecture him, though, Peeta flips the cover back to show her.

 

_ The Common Sense Book of Baby and Child Care _ ...

 

She blinks and looks up at Peeta’s earnest face. The baby kicks again.

 

“I just thought maybe I should learn as much as I could before the baby gets here,” he explains. Katniss plucks at the grass beside the blanket and bites her lip. Well she can’t lecture him now. It wouldn’t make sense.

 

“Anything good in there?” she asks, biting her lip.

 

“Yeah,” he says excitedly and moves so that he’s sitting behind her, pulls her back to recline against him and wraps his arms around her. It occurs to her that if either of them was meant to be a parent, it’s clearly Peeta. She’s still scared half out of her wits.

 

As they flip through the pages and Peeta reads bits to her that caught his interest, she smiles and relaxes. Maybe she won’t be so bad at this with him beside her. With a deep breath, she takes one of his hands in hers. The book flops closed and Peeta trails off mid-sentence as she molds his palm to her belly, right beneath her ribs on the left. As the life growing inside of her shifts, stretching and pushing, she drags Peeta’s hand over towards the point of contact. The feeling of being pressed from both inside and out is alien to her, but Peeta’s sharp gasp is worth it.

 

“Is that…?”

 

“Mmhmm,” she hums and laughs with Peeta when the baby punches the spot where the three of them are connected.

 

“Wow,” he breathes out, and guilt slips over her in a cold sheet.

 

“She’s been moving for a week or two,” Katniss says. Although they don’t know the sex of the baby, Katniss is convinced she’s carrying a girl, and her middle flutters with familiar longing when Peeta smiles and his eyes brighten with joy in response to her certainty.

 

“Really?” Peeta asks. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

 

Katniss is back to plucking grass. There’s still so much unanswered about their future. So much that scares her.

 

“I was scared,” she admits quietly. Peeta turns his head to press his lips to her temple. “And things have been so busy lately. Are we going to be okay, Peeta?”

 

“I know this isn’t what we planned, Katniss,” he says, moving his arms so that he’s embracing her fully. He dips his head, using her shoulder to push his glasses back up his nose. The gesture makes her smile. She always thought it was endearing. “But I think we’ll be okay. We have each other. And neither one of us gives up easily.”

 

Laughing at the sentiment, she tips her head back so she can look at him.

 

“Together?”

 

“Always,” he tells her and kisses her nose.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“I’m going to try calling him again,” Katniss says and hoists herself off the floor. It takes some doing with her eight and a half month wide belly. She’s just grateful that her mother doesn’t say a word. Doesn’t remind Katniss that she’s already called the university study center where Peeta works as a tutor, and his father’s house where he was supposed to go earlier today to fix the kitchen sink, and the library just in case he stopped by to study a bit, and Haymitch’s Auto Repair even though Peeta wasn’t working there today, even Greasy Sae’s Greasy Spoon where he sometimes stops to pick up her favorite cravings before he comes home. Cheese fries this month.

 

While she knows it’s a futile endeavor, she also knows that she just needs him here.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“I don’t think so, Mama Bird,” Peeta says and twirls her carefully away from the box she was about to lift. She sweeps her braid off her shoulder and glares at him as he lifts the box from the bed of his beat-up, hand-me-down truck.

 

“I’m pregnant, not dying, Peeta,” she says. “I could have gotten that.”

 

“Oh, I know,” he says, but not with the smile she’s expecting. The smile that usually cools her flashes of anger before she can lose her temper. His face is serious, and he kisses her cheek, almost apologetically. “I can’t carry or deliver the baby. But I  _ can _ carry all the heavy boxes and deliver our things safely to our new home.”

 

_ Our new home. _

 

The words carry a thrill through her. A fluttering of hope. And truthfully, her feet still hurt from her shift at the diner yesterday. She volunteered to work a double because she’d made the mistake of looking into the cost of a hospital stay to deliver a baby and nearly fainted.

 

Peeta follows her up the stairs to their newly acquired married couple dorm room. He’s already made friends with the neighbors on either side. A couple in graduate school to the right. A couple who claims they only got married for the tax advantages to their left.

 

Their place is small. Two tiny bedrooms and a kitchen stocked with just the necessities. A bathroom that barely fits the two of them right now, and won’t anymore if she gets any bigger.

 

Since Peeta insists on bringing the boxes up himself, Katniss starts unpacking, finding homes for everything. They work mostly in silence until her stomach growls for dinner. After they’ve eaten, they recline on the sofa, with her books spread over the coffee table and her feet in his lap. He absentmindedly massages her ankles and feet as he studies.

 

And Katniss decides maybe he’s right. Maybe they will be okay. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

It’s when the lulls in between contractions slip from four minutes down to two that Katniss starts to panic. 

 

Maybe he was in a car accident. He could be bleeding and dying on the side for the road and she won’t know for hours to come yet. Maybe he got mugged. Maybe he fell asleep behind the wheel. He’s been pulling extra shifts lately, and she knows his grades are suffering for it, even if he won’t admit it to her.

 

“Katniss, it helps if you exhale,” her mother’s voice cuts off the implosion of her thoughts. She releases the breath she’d been holding and holds her head in her hands.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“I think I want my mother to help with the birth,” Katniss says as they lay in bed one night, her words almost disguised under the sounds of her trying to get comfortable. It’s getting more difficult now with this huge protrusion in front of her and the near constant ache in her lower back.

 

“Instead of going to the hospital?” Peeta asks. She searches his tone for doubt or disgust, but finds only honest curiosity. She should have known he’d be okay with it.

 

“Yes,” she says and finally settles with her head on Peeta’s outstretched arm.

 

“Okay,” he says, and moves aside her hair before kissing the back of her neck. “But you have to cut back on your shifts at the diner.”

 

“I can’t, Peeta. You know we can’t afford it.”

 

“We can if I start working at the study center. I got a job there, tutoring freshmen English,” he says with a stunning amount of bite in his voice. “Let me do this, Katniss.”

 

She lays in the bed, glaring at the wall, not wanting to give him this concession. But the truth is, her tips haven’t been nearly as high lately and the odd looks have been getting worse. Especially since her fingers have swollen so much that she can’t even get her wedding ring on anymore. No one notices it dangling on a chain around her neck. And it’s none of their business anyways.

 

Compassion seems to be in short supply these days.

 

“What about your job at Haymitch’s?” she asks. She feels him shrug behind her and curls his arm around her. She wriggles to get closer and bites back a soft sigh.

 

“I’ll still work there. Just taking the second job to fatten the checkbook some more. Fill the holes while you rest a little.”

 

“Peeta,” she says, preparing to argue.

 

“Just think about it, Katniss,” he whispers.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

She releases a strangled noise as the contraction finally abates and she hears the sound of his beat up Chevy’s door slamming. His feet pound up the stairs as her mother wipes a cool cloth over her neck and forehead.

 

“Almost there, Katniss,” her mother says. But there’s a humming in her ears that may be the fan they've set up to help keep her cool or the pain or maybe just him as he races through the door they opened to release some of the heat from the room.

 

He doesn’t even say a word, just tosses aside his bag and slides across the tile floor to sit beside her, she laughs as the motion makes her think of the baseball players at the game he took her to last week. A special date night since they hadn’t had one in ages, too concerned with work shifts and red numbers in the checkbook and the frighteningly bare refrigerator. The dark circles under his eyes from holding down two jobs and failing a class. The spike in her blood pressure that meant she couldn’t work even the few shifts she still held at the diner anymore and raised the question of if she’d even be back after the baby was born.

 

They’d laughed and flirted and shared a tub of popcorn as he tried to explain the rules and she pretended not to know them. She laughs again as he tugs on her braid, the same way he did when he realized she’d been fooling him that whole night and knew exactly what a sacrificial bunt is.

 

She’d felt so young and carefree, and the lightness of the night had seeped into the rest of her week. She had started singing to the baby. Cooing to her and spent an hour folding and organizing the baby clothes and linens they’d slowly collected over the months. One piece at a time. She’d even washed and prepped the linens for the bassinet.

 

Still scared. But tempered with a layer of hopeful expectation.

 

But he’s here now, moving to sit behind her and support her, letting her grip his hands and squeeze the blood from them, her nails piercing his skin as she breathes with her mother and counts in her head and pleads with the baby to get here soon because she’s just so darn tired at this point.

 

The pain begins again, high on her belly and coursing down as Peeta holds her, whispering soft words of encouragement that hum in her ear as her mother’s placid face watches between her bent and open knees. And even though it hurts, she feels surprisingly calm. Clenching her teeth and groaning low in her chest as the contractions come too close to give her much of a respite.

 

Her mother moves and with two more contractions, a smile breaks across her face. A look of pure love and joy that Katniss feels echoing in her blood.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Come on,” Peeta urges. “Take a quick shower and then we’re going out.”

 

“We can’t,” she starts. “The baby--”

 

“She’s coming, too. And we won’t be around any disease ridden people. Just us and the flowers.”

 

Wrinkling her nose, Katniss glances down at the bundle in her arms. She’s exhausted, limbs dragging so much that she fell asleep in the rocking chair last night with their daughter clutched to her breast. Peeta had to pry the baby from her grip and return her to her basinet. Then he’d carried Katniss to their bed and rubbed her lower back until she fell asleep.

 

She could use a few minutes of relaxation in the shower, Katniss decides. And fresh air couldn’t hurt either, so she does as Peeta asks. 

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Where were you?” Katniss finally asks as her mother bathes their newborn daughter and swaddles her in a soft blue blanket. Peeta adjusts his glasses and looks away from her, pulling his bag to him and digging a piece of paper out from its depths.

 

“Dealing with this,” he says and hands the paper to her.

 

It’s such an official looking document with seals and red letters stamped on it, but she can only read two words off the whole thing as the world pitches beneath her.

 

_ SELECTIVE SERVICE _

 

“No,” she whispers. “They can’t; you’re enrolled in a university.”

 

“Only if I file for an exception,” he tells her.

 

“You will, won’t you? That’s what you were doing, isn’t it?” she nearly screams the question at him, but his eyes are on her mother...no, their daughter.

 

“I was actually thinking that I wouldn’t,” he whispers as her mother places the baby carefully in Katniss’ arms and Peeta reclaims the hateful notice, setting it aside. 

 

“It’d be a good, steady paycheck, Katniss. And you can keep going to school. Maybe even without having to work at the diner if we’re careful. I think I should do this. For her,” Peeta says softly. His hand shakes as he places it over their daughter’s forehead, caresses the tuft of downy black hair. 

 

She stares down at the scrunched face with her olive skin and a thatch of curly black hair. Their daughter’s eyelids quiver and flutter against the shocking light of day. Then they open enough to reveal a deep, royal blue. Just like Peeta’s.

 

Unfettered joy sings in her veins as she brings the baby closer, inhales her strange scent and kisses just the tip of her nose. Perfect.

 

“What should we name her?” Peeta whispers, kissing Katniss just behind her ear.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The windows rattle as they drive out of town. Katniss closes her eyes to savor the whip of the breeze over her face. She inhales and smiles. It’s been so long since she’s been anywhere. Too caught up in recovering and caring for Joy. And Peeta’s been busy disenrolling from school, preparing for boot camp, and still working at Haymitch’s to keep the bills paid.

 

They found an apartment for Katniss, the baby, and her mother to live in while she continues attending school and he’s in Georgia. Six months. Six long months starting in two weeks.

 

In the end, she couldn’t refute his reasoning. Just one more choice in a long list of ones they’ve made for the sake of the tiny yet demanding bundle of delight that somehow cried and cooed her way into the deepest recesses of both their hearts. Even before her own tiny heart started beating.

 

As Peeta pulls the truck off the pavement onto a dirt road, Katniss opens her eyes and smiles. Looks over to share the expression with Peeta. When he stops the truck, she opens the door and climbs out on her own, eager to be in the field of bright yellow dandelions laid out before her. He follows her as she laughs and spins gently, so as to not disturb their sleeping Joy.

 

“Are we still gonna be okay?” he asks as she finally stops, resting his hands on her hips and staring into her eyes. She wants to tell him not to go. To forbid him to die if he does. But she already knows what he'll say. They've been over it a hundred times already. 

 

And even though she knows it won’t be easy, the truth is, it never has been.

 

With a nod, Katniss kisses him, before transferring Joy from her arms to his.

 

“Always,” she whispers.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This was fun to write since, believe it or not, my grandparents were 19 year old newlyweds with a baby (my mother) while attending UCLA back in the 1950’s. Their story, which oddly enough, involved some yellow flowers, served as inspiration and a guideline. Hope you enjoyed this! <3
> 
>  
> 
> Title for this story derived from the average time between contractions during active labor. Musical inspiration: Not Today by Imagine Dragons.


	26. Grapholasagna

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Random AU, Inspired by someone who saw the first chapter for Come On Baby,Light My Fire, and thought the word was Grapholasagna, not Grapholognia. They thought perhaps the word could have meant: the urge to stare at Italian food. 304 Words. Written August 2016. WARNINGS: RATED K, no warnings. This is literally just some silly fun.

**_Grapholasagna_ ** _ \- the urge to stare at Italian food _

 

* * *

 

The only word that comes to mind is perfection. Katniss licks her lips, staring ardently at the feast before her. So much deliciousness. And oh, the colors. The beautiful intricate waves. She fights back the urge to sink her hands into it and stuff her face. They spent all day in the overheated kitchen, sweat pooling behind her knees, between her breasts. An arduous labor of tender love and hard work. While the urge to dive in and glut herself, she reminds herself that once she does, the perfect beauty before her will be destroyed.

 

“Are you gonna--”

 

“Shush!” she admonishes, putting out a hand to cover Peeta’s mouth. “You’ll ruin the moment.”

 

She feels him shaking beside her in silent laughter, his lips curling against her palm. But she doesn’t care. Continues to stare at the pan of lasagna on their countertop. So much ooey, gooey cheese. Savory meats tickle her nostrils. The sauce oozes delicately from the gloriously wavy noodles. Sinuous tendrils of steam rise up from the dish, beckoning to her to slice into the five layer concoction of pure decadence. It’s their first from scratch lasagna, and she refuses to rush this.

 

With a deep breath, she removes her hand from his mouth and picks up the spatula. Finally looks away from their dinner. Peeta’s still smiling as her hand shakes.

 

“Together?” he asks softly. 

 

“Together,” she nods, and Peeta wraps his hand around hers, their grip now firm on the spatula. 

 

She squeaks in protest at the carnage as the spatula slices into the lasagna, but her qualms disappear as she sits moaning around her first bite, eyes closed, lips pursed around the fork. Across the table, Peeta groans. Well, at least she knows what they’ll be having for dessert later.


	27. Moving You, Moving Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Modern AU inspired by a piece of art by the fabulous everlart.tumblr.com and the prompt, “If you keep looking at me like that, we aren’t going to make it to a bed.” Basically gratuitous porn. 3,356 Words. Written September 2016. WARNINGS: RATED E for smut. SMUT I SAY!!!

Katniss spins the box sitting on the kitchen counter and scrunches her face at the vague label.  _ Kitchen stuff. _ Well, that’s frustratingly unhelpful.  _ Kitchen stuff  _ could mean any number of things, given how many accoutrements the two of them have. Between Peeta’s baking and her deep love for great food, they could probably run a full-menu gourmet restaurant from their kitchen. But right now, all she wants is the damn skillet and something that will suffice as a plate so she can make grilled cheese for their dinner later. If she doesn’t find what she’ll need now, then in a few hours when it’s time to start cooking, they’ll end up eating out instead, which is something they don’t need on top of the expense of moving.

 

“Peeta!” she yells during a lull in the whir of the drill he’s using to assemble their bookshelves in the living room. She slices the box open and peers inside. Glasswear. His, she thinks. Although, she can’t be certain. He packed both of their kitchens.

 

“Yeah?” he shouts back.

 

“We need to work on your labeling skills!”

 

“Okay?” he says and there’s a loud  _ thud _ followed by his heavy footsteps.

 

“These all say  _ Kitchen stuff, _ ” she complains as she pushes the box across the counter and flips back an errant strand of hair before glaring at her boyfriend.

 

“Because they’re all things that go in the kitchen,” he says as he looks in the box she just dismissed. “What are you looking for?”

 

“The skillet,” she says and waves a hand towards the mountain of boxes behind her.

 

“Ah,” he says, his eyes rounding out at the number of boxes still untouched. His cheeks pinken as she scowls at him. “Want me to help?”

 

“No, I want you to put useful labels on things,” she gripes.

 

“Okay, well next time we move--” he stops right there as her scowl deepens and he ruffles his hair. 

 

“We’re not moving again until we’re eighty,” she tells him. This whole ordeal has been one stressor after another.

 

“I’m sorry. Here.” He takes the box cutter from her and slices open the nearest box, shifting aside the paper and searching for the skillet. “I think it was in a box with the pots and pans. Not in this one. It’s all dishes.”

 

“Wait, we need plates for dinner, too,” Katniss says, resting a hand on his wrist before he can shove the box aside.

 

“We just ate lunch,” he says, quirking an eyebrow at her, but he pulls out two plates and hands them to her to unwrap.

 

“Yes, and if I get involved in unpacking, we won’t have what we need to make dinner. Then I’ll start yelling because I can’t find anything, and you’ll suggest we just go out to eat to save ourselves the stress, and then we won’t have the money to hook up our internet until next month,” she says, brows furrowing. Peeta smiles and kisses the tip of her nose.

 

“Makes sense. Let’s find that skillet, then,” he says, and she relaxes at the sight of his easy smile. This is one of the things she loves about him. He doesn’t make fun of her need to organize and have what she needs at her fingertips at all times. To be prepared.

 

With Peeta’s help, they make a cursory search of the boxes. She slices them open and shifts the paper, he lets her know if the box definitely doesn’t contain the skillet then folds the flaps back together and sets the box aside. Halfway through the pile, they find one with a few large pots, and together, stack the contents on the counter.

 

“Aha!” she crows in triumph as she spots the skillet near the bottom. Pulling it from the box, she spins it by the handle and grins at Peeta.

 

“Crisis averted,” he says with a smile. “I’ll get back to the bookshelves if you don’t need anything else.”

 

“No, I think we’re good now,” she says as she sets the skillet down on the stovetop and shifts the plates they just unpacked to sit next to it. She found the silverware earlier in the day, and has already tucked it away in its new home.

 

“Hey, Katniss,” he says as she returns to the boxes.

 

“Mmhmmm?” she hums, glancing up at him. He stares at her for a moment, releasing a rush of warmth to her cheeks, her chest, and it slowly spreads lower.

 

“Nothing, just...” he licks his lips and seems so uncertain, she leaves the boxes and walks over to where he hovers in the doorway between kitchen and living room.

 

“Just what?” she asks, winding her arms around his neck and pulling their bodies close together. His hands rest lightly on her hips, tug her closer as he nuzzles her ear before answering her.

 

“Let me know if you need me again,” he says. A frisson ripples down her spine at the feel of his words murmured in warm tones and warmer breath. Peeta’s hands slide up her back, sending the thrill right back up to tingle at the base of her neck. Her annoyance over his poor labeling skills forgotten. There are much more important things to think about.

 

_ I do need you. Always _ , she thinks, but silently lets him go, although she does linger to watch him as he bends over the retrieve the drill from where he dropped it on the floor. Lingers to admire the flattering stretch of his jeans over his ass. When he squats down in front of the partially assembled shelves, she ignores the brief double-time of her heart and returns to her own task, wondering what it is Peeta really wanted to say to her.

 

They’ve been together a couple of years now, and yet half their family and friends were stunned when Katniss and Peeta decided to move in together. It just made sense, Katniss had defended their choice. His roommate, Johanna, had recently eloped to California with her girlfriend, Cressida, an up-and-coming documentary filmmaker. Peeta couldn’t cover the rent by himself, but his place was a little too far from Katniss’ job. It would have made her daily commute miserable. And she had only just managed to pay off her student loans. Prim had long since moved out, and Katniss was happy to take the chance to leave behind the dilapidated house they’d rented ever since her father died. Her mother had no qualms about that either and had already moved into a small townhome near her close friend, Hazelle Hawthorne. So really, moving into a new place that was convenient for both Katniss and Peeta made the most sense.

 

Katniss works through the kitchen boxes steadily, pausing every few to take a mental inventory of what’s left and in which cabinets it should go. Already, she has a medium box half-filled with duplicate items. Maybe they can hold a garage sale in a few weeks, once they've got their new home more organized.

 

When she opens the box with his plates and bowls in it, Katniss taps her fingers on the cardboard and bites her lip. She’s already unpacked her dishes and placed them in the cabinet. But she really likes Peeta’s plates. And it’s not like either of them have that many.

 

“Alright, bookshelves are done. Haven’t unpacked any books, though. I thought I’d come in here and help you first. Priorities, right?” Peeta says as he enters the kitchen and grabs one of the glasses sitting in neat rows on the counter. She hasn’t loaded them into the cabinets just yet. Peeta eyes the bottom of the glass and blows a puff of air into it to remove the small shards of paper and cardboard. As he fills it, he smiles up at her. “How can I help?”

 

“I was thinking we keep both sets,” she says and peels back the paper wrapping to show him one of his cream plates ringed with three shades of green.

 

“Sure,” he says with a shrug and leans against the counter. He chugs down the water and Katniss has to swallow as she watches. He’s rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, and didn’t bother trying to tame his curls this morning. Her fingers flex on the plate as she hastily unwraps it the rest of the way to distract herself before adding it the the stack in the cabinet.

 

They work quietly for the next few minutes, unwrapping dishes and placing them in their new home. Peeta folds the discarded packing paper and tells her there’s a recycling center down the street. They can load the paper into his car and take it in the morning.

 

As hard as she tries to concentrate on her task, though, Katniss can’t keep her eyes from straying to him. To his lashes and his mouth as he bites the inside of his cheek when he opens another box. To his shoulders and arms as he reaches up to store the hodge-podge of wine glasses they have on the top shelf. 

 

What their family and friends don’t seem to realize is that this would’ve happened eventually. It should have happened sooner. But Peeta rarely pushes her, only when she desperately needs the push, and never about their relationship. All the justifications she gave to the people around them were superficial. A smokescreen. To hide from them all just how badly she needs him in her life.

 

That’s her problem. Ever since her dad died and she basically had to raise Prim on her own, people always talked about how strong and practical she was. A survivor. What a great role model for Prim. She shouldered the pressure and never realized how heavy it was until Peeta waltzed into her life and didn’t ask or offer, simply shared the burden with her and somehow made it seem less so. But no one knows this except Katniss, who kept it close to her heart. She herself didn’t realize she was falling in love with Peeta until it had already happened. It wasn’t possible for anyone else to see that cool, aloof, interminably responsible Katniss Everdeen had fallen in love with the kind, blue-eyed boy who worked at the corner bakery. They all just assumed there was a logical reason for her to date him, not an emotional one. How wrong they all were.

 

“What’s that look for?” Peeta asks, and she blushes, turning back to her task and stammering out an excuse about getting lost in her thoughts. Knowing that Peeta will see right through it. She manages one more box before Peeta calls her out again on her staring.

 

“We’ve only got the one 9 by 13 glass pan,” he teases and removes it from her hands before she drops it, too busy staring at the flex of his arms as he broke down the empty boxes to pay attention to what she was doing. 

 

“We should fix that,” she mumbles as he reaches over her to slide it onto one of the cabinet shelves, exactly where she’d planned on putting it.

 

“Or you could focus,” he whispers, but his hand, now free of the dish, cups her cheek, his thumb tracing over the curve.

 

“Maybe I just need a break,” she suggests, staring at his mouth as his lips stretch into a smile.

 

“A break?”

 

“We’ve been on our feet all day,” she excuses her behavior as her hands run up over his chest and hook over his shoulders. 

 

“We should keep going. We’ll have to stop soon for dinner anyways,” he argues. “But if you keep looking at me like that, we’re not even gonna make it to the bed.”

 

His lips caress over hers and Katniss lets her eyes flutter shut. His hands tug her against his body and she tangles her fingers in his hair, holding him in place as her heart accelerates.

 

“Is the bed even put together?” she asks when he shifts his mouth to her neck and then gasps as his teeth scrape over her clavicle.

 

“Put together, yes. Sheets on it? No,” he murmurs and lifts his head to look down at her. She bites her lip and glances over his shoulder at the floating island. There’s a stack of folded packing paper, one of bubble wrap, and two boxes covering the surface. Most of that can easily be moved.

 

When her eyes meet Peeta’s again, he smiles, and she knows, they’ve got the same idea.

 

“Who needs a bed?” she asks and pulls his head towards hers. Their lips meet and fold over one another’s, sealing them together. Still, she wants to get closer to him. Every fiber in her body, in her soul, starved for his touch. For the feel of him inside her.

 

Peeta backs across the room towards the island, their mouths separating with a snap as she shoves his shirt up over his head and he’s forced to let her go for just a second. As soon as his hands are free of the garment, though, they return to her, swiftly unbuttoning her jeans. He spins them both and her nails dig into his forearms as his hand slips inside her jeans, rubbing her over her panties. Katniss leans back against the island and lets her head fall back, eyes closed in bliss as the raging hunger spreads further through her limbs.

 

“Peeta,” she sighs, sliding her hands up his arms to grip his shoulders, to hold him closer. He bends over and breathes into her ear.

 

“You know I can’t resist that look you give me,” Peeta whispers. “All I can think of when you look at me like that is making you come once.”

 

She moans as his fingers move aside her panties and tease her folds.

 

“Twice,” he rasps and sucks on her earlobe sending a tremor through her as she bucks into his hand, sheathing his fingers inside her.

 

“Then again on my cock,” he whispers before his lips join hers again, swallowing her moan. His fingers pump her, his motions slight, hampered by her jeans, and Katniss wriggles to get more. Feel more of him. Frustrated, she releases his hair and shoves her jeans down and kicks them aside, all while Peeta continues to fuck her with his fingers and feed her hot kisses.

 

She claws at his shoulders and arches, sucking on his tongue to keep it in her mouth and trying to find the right friction, the right angle for his fingers to send her careening off the edge. Peeta chuckles at her plight and pulls back to look into her eyes.

 

“You started this distraction,” he reminds her and she growls at him.

 

“So let me finish.”

 

“Not yet,” he whispers, sliding his fingers from her to a whining chorus of her protests. 

 

He licks his fingers clean then unfastens his own jeans. Encouraged by this, Katniss reaches out to help, and once he’s standing in nothing but his boxer briefs, she yanks his mouth back to hers. She whimpers a wordless plea for him to go faster as he slowly peels her panties down over her hips and pushes them towards the floor. She yanks on his hair as he lifts her to the counter and then wraps one of her legs around his hips. His own fingers tug on her hair as he buries one hand in the tresses, sending sharp tingles through her spine to her core, making her grind up into his erection.

 

Peeta sucks in a breath and thrusts back into her as she lifts her foot, hooking the waistband of his underwear on her toes and pushing it down over his ass. He thrusts again, pushing her back into the stack of paper and she squirms at the rough edges of it against her bare skin. Peeta shoves the stack off the other side of the island. The fluttering fills the air as he reaches down between them to free his erection.

 

“Fuck me, Peeta,” she asks as he stops kissing her to look down at what he’s doing. “Here on our counter. Please?”

 

He moans and turns his head, teeth sinking into her arm as he slides inch by inch inside her. Using his shoulders to hold herself steady, Katniss scoots to the edge of the counter as Peeta raises one knee, bracing it on a still sealed box on the floor, right next to the island. When he lifts his head again, his palm now massaging the back of her scalp, she moves her hips as best she can.

 

“Please?” she repeats.

 

He removes his hand from the base of his cock, sinking fully into her as he instead grips the edge of the counter.

 

“I need you,” she whispers, her fingers toying with his hair and scratching the back of his neck. His blue eyes lock on hers and everything in her sparks to life as his gaze probes hers, looking for something within her. Teeth toying with her lips, she lets fly the rest of the words. “I always need you, Peeta.”

 

“Fuck,” he whispers and pulls out of her only to slam back in. She cries out in joy as he keeps moving, answering her unspoken request for him to stay with her. She’s asked it before, and he always gives her the same answer. He gives it to her now, breathing it back against her lips as his hips collide and rebound off hers, his cock sending her soaring.

 

“Always,” he promises. Then he smiles as she sucks in a loud gasp in response to a deep thrust and squeaks it back out. Her rear slides across the counter and he tugs her back to the edge. Katniss drapes her leg over his for better leverage, resting her foot on his shin as the box bends beneath his knee and the added weight of her leg. She bows towards him, his mouth latching to her neck and chest.

 

Things may change. A move to a new place. The knowledge that she’ll wake and fall asleep in the same bed as him from here on out. They’ll disagree and have to adjust to sharing space. But this will never change. Her and him and a promise of always.

 

“Almost,” she whines when her clit flutters once for a second. Peeta pauses in his thrusts, swiveling his hips against hers. Streamers of need coil tight in her gut as he pushes harder against her. Fingers dig into her hip as he holds her still and then thrusts rapidly until the coil springs free and she shudders with his name caught on her lips and ecstasy singing in her veins.

 

He tastes it as he kisses her again, their mouths slanted as they pant through noses and bathe cheeks with desperate air. His fingers curl into her scalp as one side of his mouth bends upwards and he moans, the sound reverberating against her tongue as he stills, the only movement in the room that of their heaving chests and pulsing release.

 

When the last of her tremors pass, Peeta’s lips move on hers in a slow kiss. A tender dance of tongues. Devastating in its sensuality after the rush of their coupling. Katniss tightens her arms around him, eyes squeezed shut against the wave of emotion flowing through her. When their hearts finally slow and lips part, Peeta keeps kissing her. Short brushes of lips, like he can’t quite let her go just yet.

 

“Katniss,” he murmurs, and she hums, encouraging him to say it. “I’m really glad we’re living together now.”

 

“Me too, Peeta,” she whispers. Then he smiles and gives her one more kiss.

 

“I’m gonna go see if I can find the sheets and make the bed if you’ll get dinner started. Otherwise, the carpet might be meeting one of our asses later.”

 

“Or our hands and knees,” she suggests, and Peeta groans, but it’s a content sound, and the heated look he gives her as he helps her down from the counter tells her he wouldn’t mind that at all.


	28. What I'm Really Craving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Modern AU written for everlarkbirthday drabbles. In which a pregnant Katniss is craving something that Peeta can’t get her…or can he? 2,106 Words. Written September 2016. WARNINGS: RATED T, no other warnings.

“Really, Katniss? Cheesecake? I could make or get you almost every other type of baked good in existence from the bakery, but it’s cheesecake that you want?”

 

“It’s just cheesecake, Peeta. Marvelous Munchies is just down the road. I’m not asking you to get me escargot from Paris.”

 

“I’m insulted. Are my buns no longer good enough for you?”

 

“Don’t blame me for something that’s out of my control,” she snaps, crossing her arms defensively over her chest and scowling at me.

 

“You know I love you, Katniss. I would walk to the ends of the earth, through hot coals, through hell for you,” I protest, knowing that I sound like a petulant child. I can’t help it.

 

Between my mother being a constant thorn in my side for the past four months, the hellacious day I had at the bakery, and the lack of sleep as a result of dealing with the terrifying dreams and cravings that have been plaguing Katniss recently, I’m running on fumes and don’t have enough left to control my tone. And she’s the same right now. Actually worse. There's enough of a playful lilt and sarcasm in our voices to leave me hanging in doubt, though. We're teetering on the edge between teasing and fighting and I'm not sure which way we're leaning.

 

“I am carrying your sperm tumor, Peeta. Get me the cheesecake.”

 

“You ask too much,” I scoff, and try not to take offense at the phrase  _ sperm tumor _ . But I’m already putting my shoes back on. “I'm tempted to just stop by the Snack ‘N Save and get you mass produced cheesecake.”

 

“You’re not that spiteful,” she soothes, suddenly softening as I shove my arms into my jacket with a huff. Her palms rest lightly on my cheeks and I try to avoid her mesmerizing gaze. But I can’t. I’m not sure I ever stood a chance against her. Despite our spat, when I open my eyes, she’s gazing at me with tenderness and concern. I feel the inevitable pull towards her. The certainty that I could never deny her something if it was in my power to give. “What’s going on, Peeta?”

 

“Nothing,” I whisper. She’s already got enough on her mind. I don’t need to burden her with my worries and issues. She bites her lip, and I can tell she’s going to argue, so I kiss her lower lip free of her teeth and then pull back to rest my forehead on hers. “Flavor preference?”

 

“Pear,” she states.

 

With a nod, I grab my keys and leave before she can say anything else. Before I do something stupid like break down in tears in front of my pregnant wife. Here I thought she’d be the one dealing with hormone spikes and mood swings. I’m a wreck.

 

It’s a short drive to Marvelous Munchies, and as I park, I take a deep breath. Staring at the chic storefront makes me cringe. I swore I’d never patron this gaudy establishment, this cookie cutter string of over-priced, corner-cutting monstrosity of twenty-four hour chain bakeries. Not just because this place is my own bakery’s main competitor in town, but also because I know the founder and CEO. I’m just hoping this is one of his smaller branches and he’s got no reason to be here.

 

As I walk through the door, though, it becomes apparent that the odds are not in my favor tonight. Further confirmed when David Marvel spots me and calls out in greeting. I wave back, but ignore the guy in the expensive suit in favor of focusing on the multitiered, artfully arranged cheesecake displays.

 

“What a surprise to see you in here, Mellark,” he says brightly, approaching me despite my attempts to avoid this conversation.

 

“Hey Marvel,” I say tightly. “How’ve you been?”

 

“Can’t complain,” he says with a slick grin. “We cleared $100K nationwide last month. Taking Glimmer on a cruise to celebrate next week. How about you? Still sweating your balls off in that tiny food stand of yours?”

 

“Yeah.” I rub my palm on the worn denim material of my jeans and try not to take fixate on his disparaging remarks towards my parents’ bakery. Or the inane jealousy I feel over his upcoming vacation. I’d love to pamper Katniss and take her on something like that, but between her salary as a teacher and me struggling to keep the small town bakery I inherited from my dad afloat, there’s just not enough money for that. A quick sweep of Marvel’s gaze over me and I feel inferior. A crawling insect to his preening peacock. He knows. He knows and it shouldn’t matter.

 

I hold back a sigh and and turn to the counter, grateful that one of his employees has stepped up to ask what she can get for me, rescuing me from further conversation as his phone rings and he slinks away to make more money.

 

“Do you have any pear?” I ask, and the girl wrinkles her brow. “My wife’s seven months pregnant and wants pear cheesecake.”

 

“I’m sorry, sir. That’s not something I’ve heard of.”

 

“That’s okay,” I say, scanning the contents of the case again with more purpose. “Um, I’ll take a slice of the caramel crunch, and one of the cinnamon apple.”

 

“Sure thing,” she chirps as she places the slices in a pristine white box. “It’s only fifty cents more to get the trio package.”

 

I hesitate, but since I have no idea what Katniss would actually want in place of the pear, I ask for a New York raspberry as well. My eyes nearly pop out of my head when she gives me my total, but I hand over the cash and bolt before Marvel gets off the phone and I’m forced to relive the sordid details of our days in high school.

 

“They didn’t have pear,” I mumble as I settle on our bed next to Katniss and hand her the box and a fork.

 

She tears into the box and takes a bite of the first slice, her eyes closing in delight. Now that she’s satisfied, I toss my shoes across the room and recline back on the bed with my eyes closed.

 

“Perfect,” she moans and I grimace. “Did you want any?”

 

“No thanks,” I say, but Katniss elbows me, and when I open one eye to look at her, she’s smiling and waving a forkful of cheesecake in front of my mouth.

 

“Don’t you wanna know the competition?”

 

“Too far. You push too far,” I whine.

 

“It needs something,” she says, skeptically examining the bite resting on the fork still. “I mean, it takes care of the craving, but the raspberry isn’t robust enough. Not much different from eating plain cheesecake. And the caramel crunch is  _ too _ sweet--”

 

“What are you doing, Katniss?” I ask, but my lips are already curving up in a smile.

 

“I am merely pointing out that there is room for improvement in this cheesecake. If someone wanted to try something like that,” she says and then clamps her lips around the taste of cinnamon apple, one eyebrow lifted in challenge.

 

Sitting back up, I accept the now empty fork from her and taste all three slices, considering the flavors and possibilities for improvement. She’s right, but I just don’t know if sinking money into an experiment is the best idea right now with our baby on the way.

 

We’ve only made it through about half of each slice when Katniss claims she’s full and asks me to put the box in the fridge. After taking care of that and brushing our teeth, I change into pajamas and settle next to her on the bed. She curls up into me, propping her swelling abdomen against me so that the extra weight of the baby doesn’t pull her back muscles. She kisses my jaw and thanks me for getting the cheesecake for her. I twine our fingers together and kiss each of her knuckles.

 

“My mother gave me another list of names today,” I confess to her. “And accused me of withholding the gender from her out of spite.”

 

Katniss snorts, and I melt at the indignant sound. I don’t know why I didn’t tell her sooner. I’ve just been stressed and all over the place lately, and that’s not what she needs right now.

 

“How many times do we have to tell her we don't know. And we want to be surprised.”

 

“At least once for every week you've got left. Brace yourself,” I say in a monotone, and this time her laugh is full, her body vibrating against mine.

 

“I’m sorry for acting childish,” I murmur when her brief laughter dissipates, laying my cheek on the crown of her head and feeling the softness of her hair against my skin. “It’s just been difficult lately, and--”

 

“You don’t have to apologize, Peeta,” she whispers, so low that I almost miss it. “We both acted pretty badly. I -- I shouldn’t have called our child a sperm tumor. I don’t know why I said that.”

 

“Too much time around Johanna,” I suggest and Katniss sighs out a short, crazed laugh.

 

“I guess so.”

 

She tilts her chin back and coaxes my head down until our lips meet. The kiss is gentle, sweet, and reaffirming. And exactly what I need. Warmth suffuses my every nerve and when we pull back, we remain with our mouths hovering close enough to share the air between us.

 

“What sort of names did she suggest this time?”

 

“Shadrack,” I tell her and she snorts again.

 

“She did not.”

 

“It’s a family name on her side,” I inform Katniss.

 

“Oh my god, she’s trying to kill me,” Katniss mutters. I nuzzle her neck and grin.

 

“I don’t know, it has a sort of old-world flair to it,” I tease and Katniss gives me a horrified look for one second before pinching me in rebuttal.

 

“We are not going with any names your mother suggests.”

 

“So first my buns and now my name aren’t good enough for you?” I joke and Katniss scowls at me.

 

“You’re buns are perfect for me.”

 

When I lift my eyebrow at the double entendre in that phrase, Katniss flushes slightly but doesn’t back down. Her hand snakes around me, wedging between me and the bed to squeeze my ass.

 

“In fact, I think I’m craving your buns right now,” she murmurs with a delightful smirk, the husky tone her voice adopts doing sinful things to my body.

 

“Well we can’t leave your cravings unsatisfied,” I say, drawing her mouth back to mine and kissing that smirk right off her lips.

 

*************

 

It takes me a handful of weeks of frenzied baking and scouring online forums to perfect the recipes and to learn enough of the tricks to make my latest concoction as close to perfect as I can get it, but the effort is well worth the results. At least I hope it is. But before I feel comfortable unveiling the latest addition to my inventory, I need to run it by the most savvy food critic I know. Katniss.

 

“Hey!” she calls out when I walk through the door with a dove gray bakery box tucked under my arm. “On the couch!”

 

Grabbing a fork from the kitchen, I join her in the living room. Bending over her on the couch, I press a quick kiss to her lips before presenting her with the box.

 

“For me? You shouldn’t have,” she says with a twist of her lips. She freezes when she opens the lid, staring down at the slice of cheesecake. Fluffy filling perched on a crushed gingersnap crust, a thin slice of pear and a drizzle of honey resting on top.

 

“Pear cheesecake,” I tell her when she remains silent. Her hand lifts expectantly, eyes never leaving the dessert, and I place the fork in her waiting palm. She sinks the tines into the cake and devours the first bite with a sensuous moan. And if I weren’t already madly, irrevocably, entwined and in love with Katniss, I would have been a goner in that moment.

 

“It’s exquisite, Peeta. All that whining about patronizing your competitor. Look where it got you. Baking him right out of the kitchen.”

 

“Shut up and eat your pear,” I tell her and she wrinkles her nose at me in a sad attempt at a scowl. It’s difficult to accomplish with a forkful of cheesecake melting on her tongue.

 

“There’s just one problem,” she says as she’s licking every morsel off the fork.

 

“What’s that?”

 

“I’m really craving some baklava.”


	29. Between the Covers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 29\. Between the Covers  
> Modern AU written for everlarkbirthdaydrabbles. Reading a popular book series together with her boyfriend causes Katniss all kinds of frustrations. At least they agree on the romance plot, right?…Right?! 5,077 Words. Written November 2016.  
> WARNINGS: RATED T/M: for mild sexual content, a handful of curse words, and shameless references to multiple fandoms.

Drumming her fingers on the table, Katniss stares down her aggravatingly placid boyfriend. He lifts a spoon from the bowl to his mouth, thoughtfully crunching the cereal as his eyes skim steadily over the page. She finished her meal several minutes ago, but it’s not the food she’s interested in right now. It’s the book in his hands -- the one with the glossy red cover and the shimmering onyx bird stretched across both sides -- that interests her.

 

His spoon clanks as he sets it on the rim of the bowl and calmly turns the page. One corner of his mouth twitches and then rests. It’s infuriating. She  _ needs _ to know what’s causing that half smile on his face.

 

“Are you done yet?” she snaps into the quiet of their kitchen.

 

A growl rumbles in her chest as his blue eyes lift at a glacial pace to meet hers and his pink lips curve into a smile that she usually finds adorable. Not today. There are lives at stake here. Granted, they’re fictional lives, but that doesn’t make the urgency any less potent. 

 

“Almost,” he says and she fumes silently as he returns to reading, his mouth quivering in suppressed laughter. Insufferable.

 

She crosses her arms on the table and glares daggers at him, willing him to just this once, forgo his usual methodical and thorough reading habits in favor of speed. They were lucky to get this one copy from the library, although his reading pace may convince Katniss to fork over the exorbitant price for a hardback just so she can blaze through the book at a more satisfactory pace. She’s not sure how many more times she can read “Praise for _ Game of Crows… _ ” off the back cover of its sequel while she waits and fights the urge to break something. By now, she’s got all of the reviews for the first book of the series memorized and has come up with at least fifty possible reasons from the obvious to the obscure for why the author chose to title the second book: _ Taking Flight _ . If only she’d picked rock instead of paper, she’d be the one inching ahead in the book by one chapter.

 

“My offer to read aloud still stands,” he taunts before opening his mouth for another bite of his cereal, eyes fixed on the page.

 

“You use weird voices,” she accuses. And there’s also the fact that Peeta is enamored with one side of the ridiculous love triangle the author has shoe-horned into the books. In an attempt to sway her to his side of things, he puts emphasis on the romantic bits between the protagonist and her forced partner in survival. 

 

“That’s so you can tell who’s speaking,” he says with an exaggerated roll of his eyes.

 

Katniss snorts and rests her head on her crossed arms, bouncing her foot in impatience. With the way Peeta spins words, he could probably convince her to want those two together despite the actual plot of the story. She’d rather make up her own mind on the matter, thank you very much.

 

They fall silent once more as Peeta continues to read and Katniss mentally runs back over the last chapter she read when it was her turn. She reads so fast compared to Peeta that she could probably squeeze through two maybe even three chapters in her next turn with the book, but that would violate the agreement they have of one chapter per turn. It’s a strange custody arrangement and she swears she’s gonna hit him with legal fees for hoarding if he doesn’t finish soon so she can move forward from the cliff hanger the last chapter ended on.

 

“Done,” Peeta announces, carefully marking his page and closing the book.

 

“Finally!” Katniss leaps up and snatches the book out of his hands before he can lay it down on the table. She races from the room and flops onto their bed, vaguely telling him to have a good day at work as she immerses herself in the story and Peeta leaves their home for his shift at the bakery. Since she doesn’t have to leave for her own job for another thirty minutes, she’s confident she can power through at least one chapter.

  
  


_ “I love you, Aliyana. I always have,” Jasper asserts, his grip on her arms tightening. “We could leave all of this behind us. Start that life we always talked about.” _

 

_ “I don’t know. Maybe we could if we left, but--” the weight of her actions and their unintended consequences crushes her. She cannot abandon those who depend on her. “It’s not just me anymore, Jasper. They’d torture the others if I left. I have to bring them with us.” _

 

_ Jasper glowers at her and she feels her hopes for a rapid escape fleeing. _

 

_ “And I suppose we’d be a happy little family, huh? You, me, and Rohan?” _

 

_ Indignation burns on her cheeks at his insinuations. Of course she can’t leave Rohan behind. They’d destroy him to get to her and she’d never be able to live with herself. Not after all that they’ve done for one another. _

 

_ “It wouldn’t just be him. It’d be all of our families too,” she insists breathlessly. Jasper shakes his head, his stormy eyes growing angrier by the second. But in her desperation to convince him, she loses mastery over her words. “I’ve told you. I did what I had to do. And I needed him at the time. But it doesn’t matter anymore. Now we have to go before things get worse--” _

 

_ “Get worse how?” Jasper interrupts. _

  
  


“What’d ya think?” Peeta asks before clenching a slice of toast between his teeth so he can pass her the marmalade. It slides across the counter and she stops it with her palm, shrugging in response to his question.

 

“I still think the romance is ridiculous,” she hedges and Peeta scoffs. “It’s not needed in a dystopian story.”

 

“Sure it is,” Peeta argues around his toast and Katniss playfully rolls her eyes. He grabs a plate and places his breakfast on it before continuing. They’ve already had this discussion a hundred times, but until the final book in the series comes out next year, they probably won’t agree on it. Maybe not even then. “The love story is the emotional heart of the story. It shows us that no matter how bad things get, humans are still capable of great love and great sacrifice in its name.”

 

“Maybe,” Katniss shrugs again and smiles at her flustered boyfriend. She admits to herself that she kinda likes riling him up like this. It brings out a passionate side to him that he usually tries to keep locked down, releasing it primarily into his sketch book, or into his work, or -- her favorite -- in their bedroom. But they’ve both been so engrossed in reading the book that neither one of them has had the energy to initiate intimacy. For now, though, the story rests in a brief lull and she’s craving just a bite of his uncontrolled passions. Nearly the entire last chapter was the protagonist waxing poetic about one of her unfortunate love-interest’s eyelashes.  _ Pssssh _ . As if people in love actually do something that corny. Besides, Katniss still thinks the romance between Aliyana and Rohan feels contrived.

 

“I just don’t think it feels  _ real _ between them,” she argues.

 

“He’s unfailingly loyal to her, always there for her, has become her confidante and partner in more ways than one,” Peeta argues as they move with their loaded plates to the table.

 

“Okay, he is  _ now _ , but why would he love her in the first place? He barely knew her until a few months ago.”

 

“I think he’s more observant than you’re giving him credit for.”

 

“Creepy,” Katniss shudders and Peeta looks away from her, focusing on his toast.

 

“She makes him stronger,” Peeta whispers and Katniss swirls her sugar in her tea before adding milk to both their mugs.

 

“And he does nothing but cause problems for her. I mean, what about Jasper?” Peeta’s knife clatters to the plate and she looks up from her own food, startled at the wide, astonished gaze he’s giving her. 

 

“Do  _ not _ tell me you want her to end up with Jasper. The guy’s a meat-head. All bluster and no substance.”

 

“If you’re going to give Aliyana a love interest in the name of survival,” she continues, ignoring his analysis of the character, “why not someone she’s known most of her life? I mean he’s her best friend. They work together without speaking. It just makes sense. Aren’t you the one who’s always saying the greatest loves start as friendships?”

 

“Yeah,” he mutters and Katniss keeps going before he can say something eloquent to derail her arguments.

 

“I just think Rohan needs to do more than be a hopeless romantic before he convinces me.”

 

“He risked his life for her,” Peeta deadpans, his smile creeping back on his face and one eyebrow lifting. “Thrice.”

 

At this, Katniss falls silent. She’s got no argument for that. Her phone buzzes and Katniss picks it up off the table, grateful for the distraction from the discussion that was turning a little too serious for her comfort level. She smiles slightly at the name on the caller ID.

 

“It’s Gale,” she explains to Peeta and answers the phone, completely missing the strange look Peeta gives her as she hurries from the table.

 

“I’ll be right down,” she tells Gale, gathering her bow and gear from the closet. 

 

She pauses to bend down and kiss Peeta, momentarily stunned when he wraps an arm around her to hold her close, his other hand winding through her hair as his lips coax hers into a deeper kiss. By the time he lets her go, she’s breathless and tingling and certain that her cheeks are flushed and her lips are swollen.

 

“See you tonight,” he whispers before letting her go and returning his focus to his breakfast.

 

“Yeah,” she breathes out, adjusting the bag on her shoulder. “See you tonight.”

  
  


_ Ice flows jagged in her veins as she halts just inside the shelter, the familiar red armbands of State Justice an ominous sign. She hopes Jasper was able to make it back to his own shelter undetected. _

 

_ “There you are!” Rohan calls to her. “I told them you’d be back shortly, but they insisted on waiting. Problems securing the perimeter?” _

 

_ Aliyana relaxes as Rohan throws an arm around her, the unspoken warning clear in his gaze. She yelps a little, and covers by pressing her lips to his cheek. When she pulls back, though, she can tell he sees right through her ploy. He knows that she’s hurt. But before they can take care of her injuries, they need to get rid of the State officials. _

  
  


Closing the book, Katniss stares at the cover, the words of the last chapter playing over and over in her head. She wants to focus on the story, the mystery of who the government entity is that keeps getting in the way of revolution, and what game they’re playing by throwing Aliyana and Rohan back into danger so soon. She absently runs a hand over the cover and watches Peeta through the bathroom door as he brushes his teeth.

 

As much as she hates to admit it, she’s starting to see what he meant about love being the emotional heart of the story. She could do without the cheesy lines and the contrived romance, but love is plastered across the pages and lurking between every line. The love between family and between friends. Between comrades in arms. For the person who is your last hope in a world where there is no hope. And she’d be lying if her heart didn’t stutter when Rohan stepped up to protect Aliyana yet again, even after she’d basically told him she loved Jasper and Rohan no longer had anything to gain by doing it.

 

Peeta spits out his toothpaste and washes his hands, leans over towards the mirror to take out his contacts. She fixates on the soft glow of the lights on his hair, the blonde locks she loves running her fingers through, as it’s soothing to her. The brief shimmer of his lashes when he blinks to adjust his eyes to the absence of the contact lenses. Despite their disagreements, it’s been nice reading this book series together. There has, of course, been the stimulating discussions over breakfast, the commiseration every time Aliyana loses someone close to her, the teasing to read faster so they can find out what happens next. But more than that, she loves hearing him articulate his thoughts on a particular passage, gaining more insight into the soul she fell in love with.

 

He possesses such a way with words, she often wonders why he doesn’t write stories himself, but then he’s also so skilled with pencil and paper, creating worlds worth of words out of white space. She’s so lost in her thoughts that she startles when he snaps the bathroom light off and joins her in bed.

 

“Finished with the chapter?” he asks, gesturing towards the closed book.

 

“Yeah,” she says.

 

“You wanna talk about it?”

 

“No,” Katniss says and tilts her head, struck with a thought. “Actually I want you to read the next chapter. Aloud.”

 

“You just don’t wanna have to wait for me to get through it,” he teases and she shrugs, scooting closer to him, knowing that he’ll give her exactly what she wants. He almost always does.

 

“Maybe,” she admits.

 

“Alright,” he agrees and accepts the book from her. 

 

He props up his pillow to lean back on it and Katniss shifts the covers so she can lay with her head in his lap. She holds the book while he slips on his glasses, snuggling deeper when he cracks it open and the scent of fresh pages wafts over her. She closes her eyes and relaxes into the sound of Peeta’s voice, and even though Aliyana and Rohan are once more fighting for their lives, the soothing touch of Peeta’s fingers as he toys with her hair lulls her into a state of bliss.

  
  


_ The wind howls over her voice, drowning out her warning. With a snap and a snarl, the wolves descend on Rohan. He slashes with his knife. She fires arrow after arrow into their midst, taking out the monstrously altered beasts, but it’s not enough. He’s still too far away from her. _

 

_ “Rohan!” she screams as one of the wolves leaps onto his back and the two bodies tumble down the snow covered hill, out of her sight. _

  
  


“I just don’t see the appeal,” Gale mutters. A red-faced Delly opens her mouth, clearly about to launch into another squeaking tirade when Peeta diplomatically steps between the two, suggesting that Delly help Annie get the sides organized and stop distracting Gale from cooking the meat. Once they’ve been separated, Peeta returns to Katniss’ side and shakes his head slightly.

 

“Thanks. I was starting to worry we might have a fist-fight between our best friends on our hands,” she says, planting a small kiss on his cheek. He flushes slightly and examines her. Embarrassed at her uncharacteristic display of affection, she averts her gaze, concentrating on getting the tables set with flatware and napkins. Peeta picks up a stack and helps her.

 

“One of the many dangers of shipping wars,” Peeta says and Katniss laughs.

 

“Guess we know which half of the triangle Delly’s rooting for. I’ve never seen her like that before,” Katniss whispers.

 

“And Gale too, apparently. Can’t say that I’m surprised by either of their choices,” he says.

 

“What do you mean?” she asks, an unintended bite to her tone.

 

“Nothing,” Peeta insists. “All it means is that they relate to one character more than another, so that’s the one they’re rooting for.”

 

As they work, Katniss tries to find holes in his argument, but she can’t. It makes perfect sense. So then how does that explain her? She’d stayed up late last night, reading while Peeta went to bed early to prepare for his morning shift. She’d only meant to read one chapter, but when things had gotten harrowing and mutation wolves had attacked Rohan, she’d sobbed for a minute and then torn through the subsequent chapter until she was certain that he wasn’t going to die. Katniss didn’t want him to die. Slowly, chapter by chapter, he’d worked his way into her heart with his patience and kindness and ability to make both her and Aliyana laugh in their darkest moments.

 

Not unlike Peeta.

 

The thought stops her mid reach to place another fork on the table as all of Peeta’s strange reactions in recent days suddenly make sense in this new light. When he glances up at her and gives her a sweet smile across the table, warmth flows through her.

 

“Katniss likes Jasper,” Finnick’s voice reaches them, shattering the moment as she looks sharply back over to where he and Gale are manning the grill. Delly scoffs loudly as though she can’t believe this discussion.

 

“I knew Catnip would be on my side,” Gale says with a smirk in her direction. She squirms uncomfortably, but not wanting to cause more drama amongst her friends, she doesn’t correct Finnick. Doesn’t tell him that she’s not so sure anymore.

 

“I’d rather there not be a love story at all,” she tells the group instead, falling back on her original complaint. “Poor Aliyana has enough to worry about in her life without adding the complication of deciding which boy she should be kissing.” Thankfully, that deflects the discussion in a new direction and she breathes a sigh of relief. 

  
  


_ “We both know how this ends,” Rohan says softly, opening his waterproof packet and showing her the contents. “If only one of us can live, it has to be you. There’s no reason for both of us to take this risk. You have your brothers, your parents. And Jasper. You have a chance at a future. A real life after this revolution is over.” _

 

_ Aliyana blinks down at the pictures hiding behind his identity papers. She can’t imagine how he got ahold of them, but her family smiles back up at her, bringing on a wave of homesickness so powerful, she nearly reels with it. She reaches out to caress their frozen faces but pauses, jerking her hands back. Isn’t this what she’s wanted for months? The chance to return to her family? But as she lifts her eyes to meet Rohan’s, she can’t utter the words to accept his offer. _

 

_ “Why does it have to be you?” she asks instead. _

 

_ “There’s nothing back home for me. No one waiting for me,” he says simply. _

 

_ She tries to imagine it, her home without him in it. Unbearable pain shatters in her breast, the onyx shards of damage lodging in every part of her until tears prick at her eyes. The words slip out before she can second guess them or doubt them. _

 

_ “Yes there is. I’d be waiting for you,” she whispers. He opens his mouth to argue, but she’s done running. All it’s done for her is make things worse. So before he can speak, she covers his lips with hers. _

  
  


“YOU CAN’T END A BOOK LIKE THAT!” Katniss screeches and launches it across the room in a tantrum.

 

“Huh. It seems the book is aptly titled after all,” Peeta murmurs.

 

She looks up at his smiling face and grumbles an apology. He still hasn’t read the chapter and has no idea what she’s talking about. But to just end a book in a series that way? It’s cruel.

 

“How long until the next one’s released?”

 

With a shrug, Peeta sets aside the drawing he was working on and brushes some of the hair off her face.

 

“Six months, I think. Cliffhanger?”

 

“The worst.”

 

“Guess it’s lucky we were so far down on the waiting list at the library, then. We should probably get our names on the waiting list for the next one right now.”

 

“We’re. Buying. The. Next. One.”

 

“If that’s what you want,” he says as she struggles to sit upright. He stands once she manages it and walks across the room, picking up the discarded book while she fumes on the couch. 

 

Unbelievable. She rages internally and tries not to scream anymore as Peeta settles back on the couch and starts reading. She would’ve asked him to read this last chapter aloud as well. Ever since the night she asked him to do so, that’s how they’ve been reading most of the chapters anyways. Today, though, their work shifts didn’t quite line up and Katniss had been unable to resist the temptation of finishing the final chapter, even though it was technically Peeta’s turn with the book. When he’d gotten home early and found her pages deep on the couch, Peeta hadn’t minded, instead lifting her head off the cushions and settling with it in his lap while he drew and she read voraciously.

 

She can tell when he’s getting closer to the end because his brow furrows and the pages flip faster and faster. He’ll definitely be going back to re-read this one to catch all the tiny details he loves to absorb.

 

“What the hell?” he asks, releasing the book and leaving it open in his lap.

 

“See?!” she complains, and Peeta looks up at her with his mouth twisted in disbelief. “I can’t believe Aliyana would leave his side like that. All that whining about not being able to leave him behind. Two chapters worth of her agonizing on how to keep him safe in the Tundra, and she pulls that shit? I can’t.”

 

Katniss stands and paces the living room. She needs to calm down.

 

“So it’s the inconsistency of her character you have a problem with?”

 

“No!” Katniss yells, exasperated. “She left Rohan behind! I don’t care how capable or strong he is; you don’t leave behind someone that you love!”

 

Peeta blinks, his expression dumbfounded. Katniss, meanwhile can’t get over the emotional trauma of the two characters separating. It manifests in a physical ache deep in her chest. She unwillingly relives that one time she and Peeta fought so horribly they almost broke up. They’d worked through it, but the searing pain of that night when she realized her stubbornness might have finally driven him out of her life forever remained in her memory. A visceral reminder of how damaged beyond repair she’d be if she ever lost him.

 

“Peeta,” she calls out tremulously, and he’s there, wrapping her in his strong arms. She sinks into the comforting warmth as his lips skim over her hair, her ear, and down her neck as she clings to him. Enveloped in his love, she gradually calms.

 

But the motions of his hands over her back awaken a different sort of need in her. Turning her head, she kisses along his neck. When she reaches his ear, he shivers. His fingers clench, pulling her shirt taut.

 

“Katniss,” he murmurs, his breath hitching as she winds her fingers through his hair and tugs to bring their lips together. Gentle kisses spiral quickly out of control until he lifts her in the air. Her legs wrap around him as he stumbles towards their bedroom. Despite his muffled protests against her lips, she doesn’t stop kissing him. She’s hampering his vision and doesn’t care, not even when they crash into a corner.

 

“Fuck,” Peeta curses and she bites his lip before sucking it into her mouth to soothe the sting, turning the harsh word into a moan.

 

Somehow, they make it to the bed and tumble onto the surface. Scattered kisses as they peel clothes from one another until they’re laid bare. Peeta lifts her once more, yanking back the covers before laying her on the cool sheets.

 

“So beautiful, you never fail to take my breath away,” he whispers before covering her in his warmth and tugging the sheets up over them. He reaches out to turn off the bedside lamp, but Katniss lays her hand over his wrist. He looks down at her and she blushes under his heated gaze.

 

“I...I want it on tonight.”

 

Peeta responds not with words, but with a caress over her cheek and a warm smile. Her toes curl into the sheets as he remains supported on one arm, the other hand painting down her body. As her lips part on a sigh, he kisses her again, making her request for light seem silly as she can’t seem to keep her eyes open. Not even when his lips leave her mouth to blanket her body in kisses.

 

She grips the pillow as he disappears beneath the covers, writhing and whining at the pleasure he incites in her blood. Her feet flex painfully as she reaches for what he’s pushing her towards with his hands and mouth, crying out when she takes flight, trembling as he returns to kiss her lips. Moaning around the taste of herself on his tongue. At the feel of him joining their bodies together.

 

They rock in a slow rhythm, hips and lips and quiet sighs providing all the discussion they need. As he caressed her earlier, so she does to him now, capturing his lips with hers to drink the sounds he makes before their movements separate them once again. His arms shake and hips stutter, and not wanting to let this end just yet, Katniss pushes against him so that he rolls onto his back.

 

Taking command, she’s better able to watch each tiny flutter of his expression as they move. To focus on the feel of him and his hands on her. She gets lost in the shadows cast across his features by the meager lamplight. The glow of his irises, impossibly deep and blue as he watches her with blazing awe. Unable to look away.

 

He grips her hands and holds her up as her strength begins to flag. Peeta’s strained moans and whispered words, the way he bites his lip to keep it from quivering, and then she’s soaring high, taking him with her. 

 

Strong arms wrap around her as she floats back down to rest on his chest, her cheek absorbing the rapid thuds of his heart. They lay there, entwined, his fingers trailing random patterns on her back as she tries to catch her breath, thinking that this would be the perfect end to a chapter in their lives.

  
  


_ Midnight Release: The final chapter in the exciting  _ Game of Crows  _ trilogy... _ Corvid Rising

_ Reserve your advance copy today! _

  
  


He’ll never let her live it down if she admits to him that she’s completely changed her mind about the stupid love story. In preparation for the release of the final novel, Katniss rereads the first two books. The slower pace she takes on this reread allows her to notice all the little details, and the monumental meanings behind several of the grander gestures, that sway her to agreeing completely with Peeta. It isn’t just that she’s come to love Rohan as a character, although that helps. It was what Peeta had once said to her. They protect each other. Make one another stronger. Now  _ that’s _ a love story she can get behind.

 

But she can’t tell Peeta that. He’s already suspicious, having suggested a bet on the outcome of the love story a few days ago, a knowing smile toying with his lips as he nearly caught her in her guilt. She refused to take the bet because she couldn’t bring herself to wager in support of a pairing she no longer saw as viable. When he pressed her for a reason, Katniss had hidden behind her stand-by argument, even though it rang hollow this time, and she swears Peeta could smell her lies.

 

“Sure you don’t want to take that wager?” he whispers and she clenches their receipt in her hands. Keeping her eyes focused on the line ahead of them, she nods.

 

“No!” someone in the bookstore gasps and Katniss peeks sideways. There’s a girl sitting cross-legged on the floor, a coffee cup next to her and the shimmering blue cover of  _ Corvid Rising _ \-- the bird now golden with silver stars arching over one of the spread wings -- opened and hiding her face. Katniss bites her lip and tears her gaze and her mind away from jealousy that there are people who already know Aliyana and Rohan’s fate.

 

“How about this instead?” Peeta says, his warm breath tickling her ear. “Since I still maintain that it’s not about who she  _ should  _ be kissing but about who she  _ wants  _ to be kissing -- every time Aliyana kisses Rohan, I’ll eat you out. Every time she kisses Jasper, you suck me off.”

 

Katniss gasps as her cheeks and significantly lower areas warm. She glances around her to see if anyone nearby can hear his whispers. But no one’s paying attention to them, too focused on the line waiting in front of them.

 

“If she winds up with Rohan,” Peeta continues when she doesn’t immediately object, “you get to pick our sexual positions for a month. Reverse if she ends up with Jasper. Think of it as consolation.”

 

Licking her lips, Katniss finally turns to smirk at him.

 

“And what if she winds up with neither of them?”

 

Peeta grins and leans back over her to whisper in her ear.

 

“I’ll still make you come on my tongue.” 

 

Delightful shivers run up and down her spine, and the potential of this wager far outweighs the much more tame one he proposed earlier in the week. That one involved the dishes and taking out the trash. This one, she figures, is an all-around win for her. A slow smile spreads over her face and she nods.

 

“You’re on,” she says.

 

It’s a good thing they both took the day off to catch up on sleep and to read, because by the time dinner rolls around, Katniss thinks her legs have turned to pudding and she’s not sure how Peeta’s able to still use his tongue to read the final chapter aloud. As he reaches the last words and smiles up at her, Katniss takes the book from his hands and tosses it aside.

 

“I’m assuming the terms of our bet are effective immediately. So...get on your back, Peeta.”


	30. Babysitters and Flower Crown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Modern-ish AU inspired by a tumblr prompt. Katniss works hard as a babysitter for most of the kids in her neighborhood and isn’t too keen on the idea of sharing the work with anyone else. But Peeta Mellark is just a little too cute with a flower crown on his head… 792 Words. Writtten January 2016. WARNINGS: RATED T, no other warnings.

The first warm day of the year calls to her charges. Tired of being cooped up by winter herself, Katniss gladly packs a bag with baseballs and gloves, a blanket for lounging, bottles of water, and sunscreen, before rounding up the kids. Rue tugs on her skates, and Delia whines that she doesn’t have a pair. After placating the girl by saying that they’ll take the wagon, Katniss herds all six kids out the door.

 

She inhales deeply the fresh spring air, crisp and fragrant with newly sprouted blossoms. The sun warms them all as they hurry two blocks down and one north to the park, but as they approach, Katniss’ mood dampens.

 

Already on the grass, a pair of blonde kids sits on a bright green blanket, next to a boy her age. She grinds her teeth in frustration as Rue and the others recognize him. They squeal out a greeting and race to talk to him. Of course, Peeta Mellark  _ would’ve _ earned the love of her favorite charges. Literally everyone likes him, and it is so annoying she wants to spit.

 

Perhaps her dislike of Peeta Mellark wouldn’t be so profound if, when she’d had to turn down a request to watch Rue and the five other Harrison kids, he hadn’t filled in for her. And maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if she’d known before the practice for the school musical had been rescheduled and Katniss had called to see if the job was still available, only to find out that one, Peeta Mellark, had already agreed to take it. Katniss knew he babysat to raise some extra money, but he usually took jobs in the Merchant part of town, not in  _ her  _ territory. And her dislike of him certainly wouldn’t have reached epic proportions if after he’d watched the Harrison brood, other families in  _ her _ neighborhood hadn’t started to call him, sometimes before they even tried Katniss.

 

“They all know how busy you are,” Katniss grumbles under her breath, mimicking her mother’s attempt at placating her the third night that she’d seen Peeta leaving a house in the Seam. What she really wants to do is give him a piece of her mind. She hatches a plot to get all the kids away, including the Undersee twins, who he is currently watching, so she can lay into him.

 

Good. At least he’s watching a Town family today, but it’s so unfair that he gets both now.

 

“Hey, Katniss!” he calls out and then turns to the kids. “Okay, we’re gonna need some more flowers. Each of you pick ten and then we’ll go from there, okay? Go!”

 

All the kids scatter as he stands and brushes his seat from of dirt that probably isn’t there because  _ he was literally sitting on a blanket _ , Katniss tries not to roll her eyes. But now that she’s gotten closer, she can see that he’s wearing something on his head. Crooked, ill-shapen, and bright yellow. She suppresses a snort of laughter.

 

“Do you have flowers in your hair?” she asks. He tilts his head back as though to look up, which is silly because he wouldn’t be able to see it anyways. Then his cheeks redden and he scrubs the back of his neck.

 

“Um, yeah, the girls wanted to make flower crowns, so um...Pearl made this one. Amy didn’t have enough flowers yet,” he motions down towards the half-finished flower crown on the ground just as the girl in question returns.

 

“Okay, I’m gonna finish it. And Miss Katniss can wear this one! Then you can be our fairy queen and king!” She settles on the blanket and sets to work while Katniss stares at Peeta, grudgingly admitting that she can see why the kids like him so much.

 

And he’s kinda cute with his crown of dandelions on his hair and his adorable blush. She expects him to whip off the crown and deny Amethyst Undersee her game for being too girly, but he resumes his seat and helps her.

 

“You know, in the game of chess, the queen is the most powerful piece on the board. So we need to make sure Queen Katniss’ crown is extra special.”

 

“Oh!” says Rue as she returns with an armful of dandelions. “I found this purple flower! The queen should have a purple flower in her crown!”

 

Reluctantly, Katniss joins the group on the blanket to help teach them how to weave the crowns. As Amy reaches over to place the finished crown on her head, Katniss looks up at Peeta. He smiles at her, sweet and shy and dimpled all wrapped up in one, before he turns to help Amy construct her own crown.

 

Damn. So much for hating him.


End file.
